IN  MEMORIAL 
J.   Henry  Senger 


U  r  m  a  I    C  r  a  i  u  i  11 


THE 


PRINCIPLES   AND   METHODS 


OP 


HUMAN    CULTURE: 


A  SERIES  OF  LECTURES  ADDRESSED  TO  YOUNG  TEACHERS. 


BY    WILLIAM    RUSSE'LL,' 

EDITOR  OF  THE  AMERICAN  (BOSTON)  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION,  1826  TO  1829,  AND  PRIN- 
CIPAL OF  THE  NEW  ENGLAND  NORMAL  INSTITUTE,  LANCASTER,  MASS.,  ETC.,  ETC. 


PART          I.      INTELLECTUAL    EDUCATION. 
PART        II.      MORAL    EDUCATION. 


SECOND    EDITION. 


HARTFORD : 

THE  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 
1873. 


• 


IN  MEMOR1AM 


PREFATORY  REMARKS 


THE  series  of  lectures,  of  which  the  following  are  a  part,  was  addressed,  origin- 
ally, to  students  pursuing  a  course  of  professional  study,  under  the  author's 
direction,  in  the  Merrimack  (N.  H.)  Normal  Institute,  and  in  the  New  England 
Normal  Institute,  Lancaster,  Massachusetts.  The  course,  as  delivered,  extended 
to  the  subjects  of  physical,  moral,  and  ffisthetic  culture  ;  including,  under  the  lat- 
ter heads,  remarks  on  principle  as  the  foundation  of  character,  and  suggestions  on 
the  cultivation  of  taste. 

In  the  delivery  of  the  lectures,  it  was  deemed  important  to  avoid  the  unfavor- 
able influence  of  formal  didactic  exposition,  in  a  course  of  professional  lectures  to 
a  youthful  audience.  Equal  importance,  however,  was  attached  to  a  strict  observ- 
ance of  the  systematic  connection  of  topics,  and  the  theoretic  unity  of  the  whole 
subject.  The  method  adopted,  therefore,  in  the  routine  of  the  lecture-room,  was 
to  treat  a  given  point  daily,  in  a  brief  oral  address  on  one  prominent  topic,  selected 
from  the  notes  embodying  the  plan  of  the  whole  course. 

At  the  suggestion  of  Dr.  Henry  Barnard,  the  notes,  in  their  connected  form, 
were  transcribed  for  insertion  in  his  Journal;  and  the  lectures  on  Intellectual 
Education  were  selected  for  this  purpose,  rather  as  an  experiment,  on  the  part  of 
the  author,  in  his  uncertainty  how  far  it  might  be  advisable  to  present  the  whole 
series.  But  the  unexpectedly  favorable  reception  which  the  course  on  intellectual 
education  has  met  from  teachers,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  would  have  induced 
the  writer  to  transcribe  the  other  portions  of  the  series,  had  health  and  time  per- 
mitted. The  subjects  here  referred  to,  however,  will  be  introduced,  from  time  to 
time,  as  may  be  practicable,  in  future  numbers  of  Dr.  Barnard's  Journal. 

The  thoughts  presented  in  the  following  pages,  the  author  hopes,  may  serve  to 
attract  the  attention  of  teachers  who  are  so  situated  as  to  occupy  the  ground  not 
merely  of  instructors  but  of  educators,  who  have  it  in  their  power  to  control,  to 
some  extent,  the  plan  and  progress  of  education  ;  and  all  teachers  of  the  requisite 
zeal  and  thoughtfulness,  even  in  the  most  limited  sphere  of  responsibility,  can  do 
much  in  this  way,  by  their  personal  endeavors  in  instruction.  It  is  not  in  one  de- 
partment only,  or  in  one  stage,  that  the  field  of  education  needs  resurveying, 


PREFATORY  REMARKS. 

The  whole  subject,  notwithstanding  our  many  valuable  recent  improvements  in 
processes  and  methods,  physical  and  moral,  as  well  as  intellectual,  needs'a  careful 
reconsideration  as  to  its  true  requirements,  and  a  thorough  revision  of  our  plan  of 
procedure  and  modes  of  culture. 

It  is  true  that,  in  seminaries  of  education  of  every  grade,  we  are  ceasing  from 
a  blind  following  of  prescription  imposed  by  the  past.  Mental  discipline,  rather 
than  intellectual  acquisition,  is  now  more  generally  recognized  as  the  .true  aim  of 
education  ;  and  liberal  changes  and  generous  allowances,  as  regards  the  adapta- 
tion of  text- books  and  plans  of  instruction,  have  accordingly  been  made.  But,  as 
yet,  the  point  of  view  selected  by  most  even  of  our  most  considerate  and  genial 
counselors  on  the  great  theme  of  education,  has  been  far  from  a  commanding  one. 
It  has  been  that  of  subjects  and  sciences  and  departments  of  knowledge,  with 
their  respective  demands  upon  the  mind,  instead  of  that  of  the  mind  itself,  and  its 
divine  laws  of  action  and  progress,  as  prescribed  by  its  own  constitution  and  wants, 
its  appetites  and  instinctive  preferences.  To  attract  attention  to  these,  as  the  true 
principles  of  education,  is  the  chief  aim  of  the  suggestions  embodied  in  the  fol- 
lowing pages. 


PART   I. 

INTELLECTUAL   EDUCATION. 


CONTENTS'. 


PAGE. 

INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION 9 

The  teacher's  aim  in  instruction, 9 

Necessity  of  plan' and  method, 10 

Preliminary  analysis, 11 

Outline  of  intellectual  instruction, 12 

I.  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES, 12 

1.  Classification  by  modes  of  action, 12 

2.  Curiosity, 14 

3.  Observation, 17 

4.  Knowledge 21 

5.  Appropriate  processes  for  their  cultivation, 26 

II.  THK  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES, 57 

Introductory  observations 57 

1.  Enumeration, 58 

2.  The  actuating  principle 70 

3.  Tendency  or  habit  of  action 75 

4.  Result  of  the  action— communication, 7*8 

5.  Educational  processes  for  their  cultivation, 80 

6.  Means  of  correcting  prevalent  errors, 93 

III.  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES, 101 

Introductory  observations, 101 

1.  Enumeration 102 

2.  The  actuating  principle:  inquiry, 121 

3.  Tendency  of  action 122 

4.  Result  of  the  action:  truth, 125 

5.  Educational  processes  for  their  development, 127 

Concluding  explanations, 152 

INDEX  to  the  principal  topics  considered, 155 


CULTIVATION   OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 


INTRODUCTORY  OBSERVATIONS. — The  circumstances  in  which  the  fol- 
lowing lectures  were  delivered,  will,  it  is  thought,  account  for  the  prom- 
inence given  in  them  to  many  things  merely  elementary,  as  regards 
the  science  of  mind  and  the  philosophy  of  education.  An  audi- 
ence favored  with  the  advantages  of  high  intellectual  culture,  or  of 
long  experience  in  instruction,  would,  doubtless,  have  required  a  dif- 
'erent  treatment  of  many  topics  discussed  in  such  a  course  of  lectures 
as  the  present.  But  a  long  series  of  years  occupied  in  the  training  of 
teachers,  has  proved  to  the  author  of  the  present  communication,  that 
the  greater  number  of  candidates  for  the  office  of  instruction,  and  of 
those  to  whom  its  duties  are  comparatively  new,  need  nothing  so 
much  as  an  elementary  knowledge  of  intellectual  philosophy,  and  of 
logic,  in  their  connection  with  education,  as  the  science  which  teaches 
the  appropriate  development  and  discipline  of  the  mind. 

The  Teacher's  Aim  in  Instruction. — Few  teachers,  at  the  present 
day,  regard  knowledge  as  the  great  end  even  of  intellectual  educa- 
tion. Few  are  now  unwilling  to  admit  that  the  chief  aim  of  their 
daily  endeavors,  as  instructors  and  educators,  should  be  to  train,  develop, 
and  discipline  the  powers  by  which  knowtjectgg'ig  acquired,  raYHer«than  tc 
attempt  the  immediate  accumulation^  knowledge  itself.  In  prac- 
tice, however,  and,  more  particularly^  jn, \thfe  duje  of  yb^r^g>.ieii<;l>iers, 
and  of  those  who  follow  the  occupation  as  a  transient  one,  and  not 
as  the  vocation  of  a  life-time,  the  eagerness  for  definite  and  apparent 
results,  or  even  showy  acquirements,  too  often  induces  the  instructor 
to  confine  his  attention  to  the  mere  mechanism  of  specific  processes, 
— to  the  committing  to  memory,  and,  the  repetition  of  a  set  task,  with 
or  without  the  aid  of  explanation.  This  course  he  knows  will  nomi- 
nally secure  a  single  poinLin  practice  or  effect.  He  thinks,  perhaps, 
that,  although  not  fully  understood  or  appreciated  now,  it  will  cer- 
tainly benefit  the  mind  of  his  pupil  at  some  future  day,  when  bis 

*The  series  of  leclures  of  which  the  present  forms  a  part,  extended  to  the  departments  of 
physical  and  moral  training.  But  those  on  the  progress  of  intellectual  culture,  are  selected 
as  more  easily  presented  in  the  form  of  a  series  of  articles  for  an  educational  Journal. 


10  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

mind  is  more  mature.  Hence*,  we  still  have,  in  our  school  routine, 
too  much  of  mere  rule  and  repetition,  detached  fact  and  specific  direc- 
tion, the  lesson  of  the  hour  and  the  business  of  the  day,  and  too  little 
of  the  searching  interrogation,  close  observation,  reflective  thought, 
and  penetrating  investigation,  by  which  alone  the  mind  can  be  trained 
to  the  acquisition  of  useful  knowledge,  or  the  attainment  of  valuable 
truth.  • 

Necessity  of  Plan  and  Method. — The  master  builder,  when  he 
goes  to  oversee  his  workmen,  and  watch  their  progress  in  the  work 
of  raising  the  edifice,  for  the  construction  of  which  he  has  entered 
into  contract,  never  fails  to  carry  with  him  his  plan  of  erection,  and 
with  that  in  his  hand,  for  constant  reference,  gives  directions  for  even 
the  minutest  details  in  working.  He  does  nothing  but  in  execution 
of  his  plan,  and  in  strict  accordance  with  it.  The  master  builder 
thus  reads  a  lesson  to  the  master  instructor,  (inward  builder,)  who, 
although  he  needs  not  plan  in  hand,  for  his  peculiar  work,  needs  it 
no  less,  ever  present  to  his  mind,  if  he  wishes  to  become  "  a  work- 
man that  needeth  not  to  be  ashamed  ;  "  if,  in  a  word,  he  would  enjoy 
the  conscious  pleasure  of  referring  every  day's  labor  to  its  destined 
end  of  building  up  the  mental  fabric  in  strength,  and  symmetry,  and 
enduring  beauty. 

The  young  teacher,  as  he  reviews  the  business  of  the  day  with  his 
pupils, — and  would  that  this  were  a  daily  practice  in  every  school  !— 
should  ever  refer,  in  his  own  mind,  at  least,  to  the  general  effect  of 
every  exercise,  as  tending  to  the  great  results  of  education, — to  the 
expansion  of  the  mind,  to  the  formation  of  habits  of  observation  and 
inquiry,  to  control  over  attention,  to  the  clearing  and  sharpening  of 
the  percipient  fa$uit.ve$,  "to  the  strengthening  of  the  mind's  retentive 
power,' to"  securing,  in  a  worclv  intellectual  tendency  and  character,  as 
th^.';  basis  of  -to-oral  "development  and  habit.  The  teacher,  not  less 
than  the  builder,  should  ever  have,  in  his  mind's  eye,  the  plan  of  his 
edifice  ;  aud  while,  during  the  whole  process  of  erection,  he  wastes 
no  time  on  fanciful  theory  or  fantastic  ornament,  every  operation 
which  he  conducts  should  be,  to  his  own  consciousness,  part  of  a 
great  whole,  tending  to  a  grand  consummation.  Text-books,  pro- 
cesses, exercises,  apparatus  of  every  description,  are  properly,  but  the 
pliant  tools,  or  the  subject  material,  in  the  hands  of  the  skillful 
teacher,  by  means  of  which  he  does  his  great  work  of  "  building  up 
the  being  that  We  are ; "  and  all  these  aids  he  arranges,  selects, 
modifies,  and  applies,  according  to  the  system  suggested  by  his  plan 
and  purpose. 

As  the  overseer  and  artificer  of  the  mental  fabric  of  character,  the 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  l\ 

teacher  who  is  worthy  of  the  name,  must  necessarily  possess  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  material  on  which  he  works.  It  would  be  well,  uere 
this  knowledge  always  profound  and  philosophical;  and,  among  tue 
happy  anticipations  suggested  by  the  establishment  of  normal  schools, 
none  is  more  cheering  than  the  hope  that,  ere  long,  society  will  be 
furnished  with  a  numerous  class  of  teachers,  competent  to  understand 
and  guide  the  young  mind  through  all  its  stages  of  growth  and  de- 
velopment, and  furnished  with  all  the  requisite  means  of  secur- 
ing the  noblest  results  of  human  culture. 

Meanwhile,  the  laborers  who  are  already  in  the  field,  and  who  have 
not  enjoyed,  perhaps,  extensive  opportunities  of  acquiring  a  scientific 
knowledge  of  the  chemistry  of  mental  culture,  must  be  content  with 
such  aids  as  their  own  observation,  reading,  reflection,  or  experience, 
may  furnish. 

As  a  slight  contribution  to  the  common  stock  of  professional  facili- 
ties, the  author  of  the  present  article  would  submit  the  following 
outline  to  the  consideration  <5f  his  fellow  teachers,  as  an  intended  aid 
to  the  systematizing  of  their  efforts  for  the  mental  advancement  of 
their  pupils. 

The  analysis  which  follows,  extends,  it  will  be  perceived,  no  farther 
than  to  the  limits  of  intellectual  education.  The  physical  and  the 
moral  departments  of  culture,  may  be  discussed  at  another  opportu- 
nity, and  must  be  dismissed  for  the  present,  with  the  single  remark, 
that  the  natural  unity  of  the  human  being,  demands  a  ceaseless  atten- 
tion to  these,  in  strict  conjunction  with  that  more  immediately  under 
consideration. 

PRELIMINARY  ANALYSIS. — Contemplating  man's  intellectual  con- 
stitution as  subjected  to  the  processes  of  education,  we  may  conven- 
iently group  his  mental  powers  and  faculties  under  the  following 
denominations: — perceptive,  reflective,  and  expressive.  In  expression, 
as  a  function  of  man  at  the  period  of  his  maturity,  the  order,  in  the 
preceding  classification,  may  be  termed  the  normal  or  usual  one. 
Man  perceives,  reflects,  speaks.  But  in  education,  whether  regarded 
as  a  natural  process  or  an  artificial  one,  the  order  of  classification  sug- 
gested by  the  experience  and  the  history  of  the  human  being,  in  his 
early  and  comparatively  immature  condition,  would  present  the 
expressive  powers  as  in  exercise  long  before  the  reflective,  and,  subse- 
quently, as  the  appointed  means  of  developing  these,  through  the 
medium  of  language. 

OUTLINE  OF  INTELLECTUAL  CULTURE. — An  outline  map,  or  plan 
of  intellectual  culture,  as  aided  by  the  processes  of  education,  may  be 
carried  into  practical  detail,  as  suggested  by  the  following  prominent 
points  of  analysis. 


12  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

>  1.  Classification  of  the  intellectual  faculties,  by  the  different  modes, 
or  forms  of  mental  action. 

2.  Statement  of  the  actuating  principle,  or  impelling  power  of 
each  class  or  group  of  faculties. 

3.  The  tendency,  or  habit  of  action  in  each  class. 

4.  The  result,  or  issue  of  such  action. 

5.  The  educational  processes  adapted  to  each  class  of  faculties  with 
a  view  to  aid  its  natural  tendency,  and  secure  its  results. 

From  the  imperfection  of  our  language,  in  relation  to  topics  strictly 
mental,  or  purely  philosophical,  the  word  faculties  is  unavoidably  em- 
ployed to  represent  the  diversities  in  modes  of  action  of  the  mind, 
which,  in  itself,  is,  properly  speaking,  one  and  indivisible.  But  if  we 
keep  fully  before  us  the  etymological  signification  of  the  term  facul- 
ties, (resources,  means,  powers,)  we  shall  regard  it  but  as  a  figurative 
expression,  suggestive  of  the  indefinitely*  diversified  states,  acts,  opera- 
tions, processes,  powers,  or  modes  of  action,  attributable  to  the  mind, 
— itself  a  unit. 

Adopting  the  general  classification  before  referred  to,  we  may  com- 
mence the  partial  filling  up  of  our  outline  with 

1.       THE    PERCEPTIVE    FACULTIES. 

^'   1.  Their  modes  or  forms  of  action  : 

a,  sensation ;  6,  perception  ;  c,  attention  :  d,  observation. 

2.  Actuating  principle,  or  impelling  force,  curiosity, — or  the  desire 
of  knowledge. 

3.  Tendency,  or  habit  of  action, — observation. 

4.  Result,  or  issue  of  action, — knowledge. 

5.  Educational  process,  forms  of  exercise,  or  modes  of  culture,  de- 
velopment, and  discipline  suggested  by  the"  four  preceding  considera- 
tions,— examination,  analysis,  inspection,  interrogation,  direction,  in- 
formation, comparison,  classification,  induction.     In  other  words,  the 
appropriate  presentation  of  objects  to  the  senses,  accompanied  by  mu- 
tual question  and  answer  by  teacher   and  pupil ; — with   a   view  to 
quicken  sensation,  awaken  perception,  give  power  of  prompt  and  sus- 
tained attention,  confirm  the  habit  of  careful  observation,  stimulate 
curiosity,  and  insure  the  extensive  acquisition  of  knowledge. 

(1.)       CLASSIFICATION     OF    THE     PERCEPTIVE     FACULTIES,    BY    THEIR 
MODES    OF    ACTION. 

is-  (a,)  Sensation,-^— the  organic  action  by  which  objects,  facts,  and  rela- 
tions are  presented  to  the  mind,  through  the  media  of  the  senses,  and 
which  form  the  conditions  of  perception. 
,0    £6,)  Perception,  or  cognition, — the  intellectual  action  by  which  the 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  13 

mind  perceives,  (takes  notice,  or  cognizance  of,)  data  presented  by  the 
senses. 

(c,)  Attention, — the  mental  action  by  which,  under  the  incitation 
of  desire  or  volition,  the  percipient  intellect  tends,  for  the  purposes 
of  distinct  cognizance,  towards  the  object,  fact,  or  relation  presented 
to  it. 

^.  (d,)  Observation, — the  voluntary,  sustained,  or  continuous  exercise  of 
attention,  with  which  the  mind  directs  itself  toward  the  object  of  its 
contemplation,  for  the  purpose  of  complete  intuition  and  perfect  rec- 
ognition. 

All  the  terms  now  defined,  are  but  different  designations  for  the 
various  forms  in  which  the  intuitive  action  of  the  intellectual  princi- 
ple is  solicited  by  objects  external  to  itself.  The  English  language, 
as  the  product  of  mind  working  chiefly  in  practical  directions,  posses- 
ses little  of  the  clearness  and  distinctness  in  nomenclature  which  the 
topics  of  intellectual  analysis  so  peculiarly  require.  But  the  four 
terms  used  above  are  sufficient  to  comprise  the  prominent  forms  of 
perceptive  action,  in  the  various  processes  of  intellection.  They  all 
refer  significantly  enough,  to  the  first  efforts  of  intelligence,  when, 
previous  to  any  introversive  or  reflective  act,  of  comparatively  sub- 
tile or  intricate  character,  it  obeys  the  instinct  of  its  appetite,  and 
finds  its  sustentation  by  feeding  on  the  aliment  tendered  to  it  by  its 
Author,  in  the  objects  which  environ  it.  To  watch  and  guide,  and 
cooperate  with  this  instructive  principle,  is  the  true  office  of  educa- 
tion, as  a  process  of  nurture  and  development,  working  not  in  arbi- 
trary or  artificial,  but  in  salutary  and  successful  forms, — forms  not 
devised  by  the  fallible  ingenuity  of  man,  but  by  the  unerring  wisdom 
of  Supreme  intelligence. 

Prevalent  error  in. the  order  of  cultivation. — Contrary,  however,  to 
the  obvious  suggestions  of  fact,  education  is  still  too  generally  regard- 
ed as  consisting,  during  its  earlier  stages,  in  arbitrary  exercises  of 
memory  on  combinations  of  printed  characters,  abstract  numbers,  or 
even  the  metaphysical  relations  involved  in  the  science  of  grammar. 
The  excuse  offered  for  a  blind  following  of  precedent  in  this  direction, 
usually  is  the  peculiar  susceptibility  of  memory,  during  the  period 
of  childhood,  and  the  comparative  difficulty  experienced  in  attempts 
to  cultivate  it  at  a  later  stage.  Were  the  educational  cultivation  of 
memory  directed  to  the  retaining  and  treasuring  up  of  those  stores  of 
knowledge  which  are  naturally  accessible  to  the  fnind  of  childhood, 
within  the  range  of  its  daily  observation,  the  plea  would  be  justifia- 
ble;  man's  endeavors  would  be  in  harmony  with  the  obvious  instincts 
and  endowments  of  the  mind,  and  would  tend  to  its  natural  ex'jan- 


14  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

sion  and  development.  But  directed  to  the  mechanical  and  arbi- 
trary results  at  which  these  endeavors  so  generally  aim,  their  influ- 
ence is  detrimental.  Their  immediate  effect  is  to  quench  the  natural 
thirst  for  knowledge,  to  create  a  distaste  for  intellectual  activity,  and 
thus  to  defeat  the  best  purposes  of  education. 

jj<,  The  law  of  true  culture  lies  in  the  primary  craving  of  the  young 
mind  for  material  on  which  the  understanding  may  operate  ;  digest- 
ing it,  in  due  season,  into  the  regular  form  of  knowledge  which  mem- 
ory loves  to  retain,  and  which  judgment  ultimately  builds  up  into  the 
systematic  arrangements  of  science. 

(2.')       CURIOSITY",  THE    ACTUATING    PRINCIPLE    OF    THE    PERCEPTIVE 
FACULTIES. 

$.  The  Teachers  proper  place. — The  teacher  who  enters  intelligently 
upon  his  work  of  cultivating  the  minds  entrusted  to  his  care,  knows 
that  his  chief  duty  is  to  cherish  the  spontaneous  action  of  their  pow- 
ers, and  to  make  them  intelligent  and  voluntary  co-workers  in  their 
own  development.)  He  observes,  therefore,  with  careful  attention, 
the  natural  tendencies  and  action  of  the  intellectual  system,  as  the 
physiologist  does  those  of  the  corporeal,  so  as  to  become  competent 
to  trace  the  law  of  development,  and  adapt  his  measures  to  its  re- 
quirements. He  thus  becomes  qualified  to  take  his  proper  place,  as 
an  humble  but  efficient  co-worker  with  the  Author  of  the  mind,  rec- 
ognizing and  following  His  plan,  in  modes  suggested  by  a  wisdom 
higher  than  human. 

The  attentive  study  and  observation  of  the  natural  workings 
of  the  mind,  in  the  successive  stages  of  its  progress,  from  incipient 
intelligence  to  maturity  of  reason,  imply,  however,  not  merely  a  care- 
ful analysis  of  the  facts  and  modes  of  mental  action,  but  a  watchful 
observation,  with  a  view  to  detect,  in  all  cases,  the  moving  power  or 
impelling  principle  of  action,  to  aid  and  regulate  which  is  the 
educator's  chief  work.  The  ceaseless  intellectual  activity  of  child- 
hood, maintained  through  the  various  media  of  perception,  furnished 
by  the  organs  of  sense,  is  obviously  stimulated  by  the  constitutional 
principle  of  curiosity,  an  eager  desire  to  know  and  una*rxtand,  and 
therefore,  to  observe  and  examine.  Hence  the  irrepressible  and  search- 
ing questions  with  which  children,  in  the  instinct  of  faith,  appeal  to 
whomsoever  they  think  can  satisfy  their  craving  for  information. 

To  feed  this  mental  appetite,  to  select  and  prepare  its  proper  nutri- 
ment, to  keep  it  in  healthy  and  healthful  activity,  to  quicken  and 
strengthen  it,  to  direct  and  guide  it,  as  a  divine  instinct,  leading  to 
the  noblest  ends,  should  be  the  teacher's  constant  endeavor.  To 
awaken  curiosity  is  to  secure  a  penetrating  and  fixed  attention, — the 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  1  5 

prime  condition  of  human  knowledge  ;  and  even  when  it  leads  no 
further  than  to  wonder,  it  is  preparing  the  advancing  mind  for  the 
awe  and  the  reverence  with  which,  in  later  stages  of  its  progress,  it 
looks  up  to  the  knowledge  which  is  "  too  high  for  it." 
M.  The  emotion  of  wonder  analogous  to  the  instinct  of  curiosity. — Cu- 
riosity, like  the  kindred  element  of  wonder,  finds  its  sustenance  ip 
whatever  is  new  to  sensation  or  perception  ;  wonder,  in  turn,  leads 
the  mind  to  dwell  on  whatever  is  strange,  intricate,  or  remote  ;  aston- 
ishment, arrests  it  by  whatever  is  sudden  and  powerful;  aiue+com- 
mands  it  by  whatever  is  vast ;  and  amazement  overwhelms  it  by 
whatever  is  incomprehensible  or  inscrutable.)  Yet  all  of  these  effects, — 
even  those  which,  for  the  moment,  act  on  the  perceptive  intellect  with  a 
repulsive  force  that  makes  it  recoil  in  conscious  weakness  from  the 
object  of  contemplation, — are  but  >-various  forms  of  stimulating,  im- 
pelling, or  attracting  force,  acting  on  the  irrepressible  vitality  of  the 
mind ;  and  no  incitements  are  ultimately  more  powerful  in  maintain- 
ing the  most  resolute  and  persevering  activity  of  its  powers. 

Mental  effects  of  novelty  and  variety. — In  the  great  primary  school 
of  nature,  as  established  and  furnished  by  the  Author  of  all,  we  ob- 
serve, accordingly,  that  in  the  multiform  variety  of  objects  with 
which  the  young  human  being  is  surrounded,  at  the  first  dawning  of 
intelligence  within  him,  the  novelty  of  the  whole  scene  around  him, 
and  of  every  class  of  objects  which  it  presents,  is  forever  tempting  his 
susceptible  spirit  to  observe  and  examine,  and  explore,  by  the  con- 
scious delight  which  every  new  step  affords  him. 

Evils  of  monotony,  and  advantages  of  variety. — Nor  is  the  obvious 
design  of  the  great  Instructor  less  conspicuous  in  the  feeling  of  satiety 
and  weariness  which  is  always  superinduced  by  continued  sameness  of 
mental  action,  whether  prolonged  in  the  same  mode  of  exercise,  or 
on  the  same  class  of  objects.  The  observant  teacher  thus  learns  his 
own  lesson  of  duty, — to  avoid  undue  limitation  in  the  objects  and 
forms  of  intellectual  action,  to  shun  sameness  and  monotony  of  rou- 
tine, and  protracted  exertions  of  attention,  as  all  tending  to  exhaust 
and  enfeeble  the  mental  powers.  His  endeavors,  on  the  contrary,  are 
all  directed  to  a  due  diversity  in  the  presentation  of  objects,  and  in 
the  mode  of  mental  activity  which  they  call  forth  ;  and,  in  whatever 
instances  frequent  repetition  is  indispensable  to  exact 'percept ion,  he  is 
particularly  careful  to  exert  his  ingenuity  to  the  utmost,  in  devising 
new  modes  of  presentation,  so  as  to  secure  fresh  and  earnest  atten- 
tion to  the  same  objects  or  facts,  by  the  renovating  effect  of 
the  new  lights  and  new  aspects  in  which  he  causes  them  to  be 
viewed, 


I (J  .  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

Faults  in  former  modes  of  education. — It  is  unnecessary,  in  our 
day,  to  dwell  on  the  obvious  faults  of  the  obsolete  practice  of  con- 
fining young  children  within  doors  at  all  seasons,  compelling  them 
to  remain  long  in  one  attitude  or  posture  without  relief,  condemning 
them  to  long  periods  of  silence  and  constraint,  and  forcing  them  to 
con  unmeaning  and  irksome  tasks.  These  injurious  practices  are  now, 
for  the  most  part  renounced  ;  and  more  genial  and  rational  modes  *f 
early  education  are  beginning  to  prevail.  As  yet,  however,  we  have 
only  made  a  beginning.  We  have  reformed,  our  modes  of  school 
architecture,  and  have  avowed  children  the  unspeakable  benefits  of 
space  and  air,  and  more  frequent  change  of  place,  and  posture,  and 
exercise.  Objects  and  pictures  are  now  employed,  to  some  extent,  as 
instruments  of  mental  culture ;  and  the  wisdom  of  all  these  changes 
is  proved  in  the  greater  happiness  and  better  health  of  our  little  pu- 
pils, and,  more  particularly,  in  their  greater  docility,  and  their  supe- 
rior intellectual  progress,  as  contrasted  with  the  state  of  things  under 
the  former  regime  of  irksome  monotony,  restraint,  weariness,  and  stu- 
pidity. We.  are  very  far,  yet,  however,  from  approaching  the  boun- 
tiful variety  and  delightful  novelty  furnished  in  the  great  model 
school  of  infancy  and  childhood,  as  established  by  the  Divine  founder. 

Intellectual  furniture  of  school-rooms. — Our  primary  school-rooms 
should  be  so  many  cabinets  of  nature  and  art.  Every  inch  of  wall 
not  indispensably  required  for  blackboard  exercises,  should  be  se- 
cured for  educational  purposes,  by  specimens  of  plants,  minerals, 
shells,  birds,  and  whatever  else  can  be  appropriately  placed  before  the 
eye.  The  arranging,  classifying,  and  describing  of  these,  should  pre- 
cede any  analysis  or  study  of  letters  or  syllables.  Pictures  repre- 
senting such  objects,  should  form  a  second  stage  of  exercises  in  atten- 
tion, observation,  and  description,  before  any  alphabetic  drilling  what- 
ever. J»  The  examination  of  objects  and  of  pictures,  should,  in  a  word, 
form  the  natural  preparatory  training  of  the  perceptive  faculties  for 
the  more  arbitrary  and  more  difficult  exercise  of  studying  and  recog- 
nizing the  unmeaning,  uninteresting  forms  of  alphabetic  characters 
with  their  phonetic  combinations. 

Injurious  effects  of  mere  alphabetic  drilling. — Curiosity,  the  nat- 
ural incitement  of  intellect,  is  easily  awakened  when  we  obey  the  law 
of  the  Creator,  and  direct  it  to  His  works, — the  natural  and  appro- 
priate stimulants  of  the  perceptive  powers  of  infancy ;  but  when, 
leaving  our  proper  sphere,  and  restricting  our  educational  efforts  to 
the  mechanical  training  of  eye  and  ear,  we  use  these  organs,  and  the 
informing  mind,  for  the  limited  purpose  of  recognizing  the  complica- 
ted and  irregular  geometrical  combinations  of  line  and  angle,  pre- 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  j^ 

seated  in  alphabetic  characters,  and  repeating  the  sounds  so  arbi- 
trarily associated  with  these,  \ve  take  the  mind  out  of  its  native  ele- 
ment ;  we  consequently  force  and  distort  its  growth,  dwarf  its  stat- 
ure, and  enfeeble  its  powers. 

Effects  of  the  salutary  excitement  of  the  feeling  of  wonder. — But 
it  is  not  in  the  first  stages  only  of  mental  culture,  that  the  influence 
of  novelty  and  variety  is  required  as  an  incitement  to  observation,  by 
the  frequent  presentation  of  new  and  fresh  objects  of  attention,  by 
the  agreeable  surprises  occasioned  by  new  forms  and  new  stages  of 
animal  and  vegetable  life, — all  tending  to  excite  a  lively  curiosity, 
which  leads,  in  turn,  to  careful  attention,  close  examination,  and  suc- 
cessful study.  Curiosity  should  often  be  awakened  by  the  yet  more 
powerful  influence  of  wonder.  Objects  rare  and  strange,  combina- 
tions intricate  and  even  puzzling,  should  sometimes  be  called  in,  to 
excite  a  yet  more  energetic  action"  of  the  perceptive  intellect,  in  its 
endeavors  to  grasp  the  objects  of  its  contemplation. 

Whatever  in  nature  is  wonderful, — whether  we  employ  the  micro- 
scope, in  revealing  the  intricate  structure  of  plant  or  insect,  in  the 
minuter  and  closer  examination  of  the  works  of  the  Creator  ;  or  the 
telescope,  in  the  contemplation  of  the  starry  heavens,  and  the  study 
of  the  magnitudes  and  motions  of  the  bodies  which  people  the  depths 
of  space, — all  should  be  brought  to  bear  on  the  young  mind,  to  call 
forth  that  sense  of  wonder  which  so  delights  and  inspires  it,  and  pre- 
pares it,  at  the  same  time,  for  the  influence  of  those  sentiments  of 
awe  and  reverence  with  which  the  advancing  intellect  learns  /to  trace  • 
the  signatures  of  Deity.  -fa  .  J  / 

(3.)    OBSERVATION,  AS    THE    TENDENCY    OF    MENTAL    HABIT,  UNDER 
THE    INCITING    INFLUENCE    OF    CURIOSITY. 

The  natural  effect  of  intellectual  instinct. — The  motive  power,  or 
impelling  force,  by  which,  in  the  ordinations  of  the  mind's  oinnis- 
cient  Author,  its  perceptive  faculties  are  incited  to  activity,  and 
induced  to  render  their  tribute  to  the  resources  of  intelligence,  con- 
sists in  that  restless  desire  to  observe,  to  examine,  and  to  know,  which 
constitutes  man  a  progressively  intelligent  being.  Impelled  by  this 
insatiable  mental  thirst,  he  is  led  instinctively  to  those  streams  of 
knowledge  which  constitute  the  waters  of  intellectual  life.  His  per- 
ceptive powers  thus  stimulated,  acquire  a  tendency  to  ceaseless  activ- 
ity,— a  trait  which  forms  the  peculiar  characteristic  of  the  early 
stages  of  his  mental  progress,  and  which  is  greatly  quickened  by  the 
vividness  of  sensation  in  the  constitution  of  childhood.  Hence  the 
promptness  and  versatility  of  attention  at  that  period,  and  its  remark- 
able susceptibility  to  the  influences  of  cultivation  and  discipline. 

1  B 


18  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

These  aids,  it  is  true,  are,  as  yet,  too  scantily  furnished  in  the  pro- 
cesses of  education ;  and,  even  without  them,  the  human  being,  as 
he  advances  under  the  promptings  of  instinct,  and  the  guidance  of 
self-intelligence,  attains,  as  in  the  case,  even  of  the  savage,,  to  a  high 
degree  of  perceptive  power.  The  keen,  quick,  and  penetrating 
glance  of  his  eye,  the  acuteness  and  certainty  of  his  ear,  the  readi- 
ness and  exactness  of  his  observation  of  every  object  within  the  range 
of  his  vision,  the  searching  closeness  of  inspection  with  which  he  ex- 
amines everything  new  or  uncertain,  often  furnish  an  impressive 
lesson  on  the  value  of  training,  to  those  whose  means  and  opportuni- 
ties of  intellectual  culture  are  so  superior  to  his  own. 

Effects  of  cherishing  the  habit  of  observation. — The  habit  of  obser- 
vation, duly  cherished  in  early  years,  by  the  judicious  care  of  the 
parent  and  teacher,  becomes  the  security  for  ample  acquisitions  in  the 
field  of  knowledge,  and  for  the  daily  accumulation  of  mental  resources 
and  of  intellectual  power.  The  observant  mind,  like  the  close-knit 
net  of  the  skillful  fisherman,  encloses  and  retains  the  living  treasures 
within  its  sweep,  and  deposits  them,  for  use,  in  their  appropriate  place. 
The  undisciplined,  inattentive,  unobservant  spectator  seizes  and  re- 
tains nothing  in  his  slack  and  ineffectual  grasp. 

Suggestive  significance  of  terms  in  intellectual  and  educational  re- 
lations.— The  etymology  of  the  word  apprehension,  (seizing,  grasping, 
laying  hold  of,)  suggests  an  important  lesson  regarding  the  value  of 
intellectual  training,  as  dependent  on  the  habit  of  attentive  and  close 
observation.  The  word  attention,  (tending,  reaching,  or  stretching 
toward,)  is  not  less  instructive  in  its  signification,  implying  the  ten- 
dency, or  the  gravitating  of  the  mind's  perceptive  power  toward  the 
object  of  notice,  for  the  purpose  of  cognizance,  as  the  first  stage  of 
intelligence.  The  term  observation,  (watching,  ^ith  a  view  to  obey 
or  follow,)  is  yet  more  monitory  to  the  teacher ;  as  it  intimates  that 
the  true  study  of  external  nature  demands  vigilance,  docility,  and 
fidelity  ;  in  one  word,  the  devotion  of  the  whole  mind  to  the  busi 
ness  of  intellectual  acquisition.  Perception,  (taking,  through  a  me- 
dium,) refers  us  back  to  the  humble  office  of  sensation,  as  indispensa- 
ble to  the  process  of  taking  into  the  mind  the  treasures  of  knowl- 
edge offered  to  the  grasp  of  sense,  for  the  purpose  of  transmission  to 
the  percipient  power,  the  inner  principle  of  intelligence.  All  of 
these  terms,  in  the  nomenclature  of  mental  science,  tend  to  the  same 
important  end,  in  the  uses  of  practical  education  :  they  all  point  to 
the  appropriate  discipline  of  the  perceptive  faculties,  by  means  of 
objects  addressed  to  the  senses,  as  the  primary  stage  of  intellectual 
Culture.  ,. 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  jg 

Educational  errors. — Former  modes  of  education  rendered  tbe  use 
of  terms  such  as  the  preceding,  a  nullity,  or  an  absurdity.  The  child 
shut  up  within  the  naked  walls  of  a  school-room,  seated  on  his  un- 
comfortable bench,  and  mechanically  conning  by  rote,  the  ill-fitting 
names  of  alphabetic  elements,  or  trying  to  piece  them  into  syllables, 
had  little  use  of  the  precious  gift  of  sense,  but  a  few  lines  and  angles 
to  perceive, — unless  a  friendly  fly  should  happen  to  alight  upon  the 
page  of  his  primer, — no  inducement  to  attention  but  the  fear  of  Sol- 
omon's prescription  for  "  minds  diseased,"  nothing  half  so  interesting 
to  observe  as  the  little  winged  being  accidentally  crawling  on  the  page 
before  him,  displaying  the  curiously  constructed  mechanism  of  its 
form,  its  gauzy  wings,  and  many-feathered  little  limbs,  or  stopping 
now  and  then,  to  dry-rub  instead  of  washing  them,  and  its  tiny  head, 
and  flexible  bit  of  neck,  almost  too  Diminutive  to  be  seen.  But  woe 
to  the  little  student  of  nature,  in  the  genuine  act  of  observation,  if  he 
should  lift  his  eye  from  his  book,  and  follow  his  brisk  little  visitant 
flying  off  to  perform  the  visible  miracle  of  walking  up  the  perpendic- 
ular plane  of  the  window  pane,  or  the  yet  more  puzzling  feat  of  walk- 
ing the  ceiling  with  bis  head  downward. 

Rational  method. — The  child,  in  the  case  supposed,  indicates  the 
real  want  of  his  nature,  and  mutely,  but  most  eloquently,  pleads  for 
a  lesson  on  insect  life,  (entomology,)  before  one  on  the  alphabet. 
Furnished  with  the  data  which  the  lesson  on  inject  life  and  form, 
character  and  motion,  would  present  to  his  eye,  he  would  be  receiving 
a  rational  preparatory  discipline  of  attention  and  observation,  in  the 
close  and  careful  examination  of  all  the  details  of  shape  and  connVu- 

i  O 

ration,  exhibited  in  the  living  and  attractive  object  before  him.  His 
recognition  of  figure  and  outline,  thus  secured,  he  would,  in  due  sea- 
son, transfer,  easily  and  willingly,  to  the  artificial  display  of  them  in 
the  forms  of  printed  characters. 

Benefits  resulting  from  the  early  formation  of  habits  of  attentive 
observation. — The  early  training  of  the  perceptive  faculties,  by  a  va- 
ried and  genial  discipline  of  the  power  of  attention,  so  as  to  render  s 
the  habit  of  observation  an  unfailing  characteristic  of  the  man,  be- 
comes doubly  valuable,  as  a  result  of  education,  when  we  regard  its 
effects  on  the  intellectual  tastes  and  pursuits  of  individuals.  A  taste 
for  the  study  of  nature,  early  formed,  leads  to  the  practice  of  col- 
lecting specimens,  and  thus  furnishing  the  means  of  successful 
study  to  the  person  himself,  who  collects  them,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
all  whom  he  is  disposed  to  aid  in  such  pursuits.  Were  even  the  ele- 
ments of  botany,  geology,  mineralogy,  and  zoology,  generally  adop- 
ted, as  they  ought  to  be,  as  subjects  of  attention  in  primary  education, 


20  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

a  knowledge  of  natural  science,  would,  ere  long,  be  diffused  through- 
out our  community ;  a  taste  for  the  study  of  nature  would  become 
an  intellectual  trait  of  our  people  ;  the  pursuit  of  agriculture,'  al^ori- 
culture,  and  horticulture,  would  be  more  intelligently  and  more  ad- 
vantageously followed  ;  the  citizen  would  doubly  relish  his  season  of 
respite  in  the  country ;  taste  and  intelligence  would  extend  their 
influence  over  all  modes  of  life ;  and  science  would  be  unspeakably  a 
gainer,  in  its  noble  purposes  and  offices,  by  the  multitude  of  active 
minds  and  busy  hands  called  in  to  collect,  arid  contribute  materials 
for  its  various  forms  of  investigation.  The  field  of  human  knowl- 
edge might  thus  be  indefinitely  enlarged,  and  its  advantages  and 
enjoyments  be  more  extensively  diffused.^/ 

But  it  is  not  merely  as  a  matter  of  scientific  progress,  or  of  taste 
and  enjoyment,  that  the  proper  training  of  the  perceptive  faculties, 
by  means  of  objects  and  observation,  rather  than  by  the  materials 
furnished  in  books,  becomes  an  important  consideration  in  the  plan- 
ning of  modes  of  education,  and  methods  of  instruction.  Practical 
utility,  also,  has  its  claim  to  urge  in  this  relation.  The  larger  num- 
ber of  persons,  even  in  the  most  advanced  communities,  as  regards 
civilization  and  refinement,  are  occupied  in  some  foim  of  active  exer- 
tion, as  the  daily  vocation  of  individuals  ;  and  while  no  generous 
mind  can  ever  look  on  education  as  a  benefit  or  a  blessing,  if  it  is  to 
be  used  as  a  mean^of  training  for  the  occupation  of  a  given  caste,  it 
is  not  less  true,  that  every  individual,  in  whatever  class  of  society, 
would  be  vastly  benefited  by  an  early  course  of  cultivation  on  all 
subjects  akin  to  those  which  are  to  form  the  staple  of  his  mode  of 
life.  Botany,  geology,  chemistry,  entomology,  for  instance,  all  have 
their  relations  to  agriculture ;  and  a  few  hours  devoted  weekly  to 
the  elements  of  these  sciences,  will,  by  their  inspiring  influence  on  the 
young  mind,  expedite  rather  than  retard  the  ordinary  processes  of 
school  education. 

Importance  of  commencing  early  the  study  of  Nature. — But  while 
no  formal  or  extensive  study  of  these  branches  can  be  rationally 
attempted  in  primary  education,  it  is  most  emphatically  true,  that,  in 
the  study  of  nature,  more  than  in  other  forms  of  intellectual  action, 
nothing  can  be  advantageously  done  but  on  condition  of  an  early  be- 
ginning, and  the  judicious  improvement  of  the  opportunity  afforded 
during  the  period  of  leisure  and  susceptibility  which  occurs  to  all 
human  beings  but  once  in  life.  Childhood  and  youth  are,  by  the 
Creator's  appointment,  the  period  for  forming  taste  and  acquiring 
habits.  The  most  resolute  struggles  in  after  years,  seldom  succeed  in 
effecting  a  change  of  mental  occupation,  or  in  lending  attractive  inter- 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  21 

estto  new  pursuits.  The  "pliant  hour"  must  be  taken  for  all  pro- 
cesses of  mental  budding,  grafting,  or  pruning,  as  well  as  in  those  of 
the  orchard.  An  early  dip  into  the  study  of  nature,  will  serve  to 
saturate  the  whole  soul  with  a  love  for  it  so  strong  as  to  insure  the 
prosecution  of  such  subjects  for  life.  ^The  season  is  auspicious ;  the 
senses  are  fresh  and  susceptible ;  the  mind  is  awake ;  the  heart  is 
alive ;  the  memory  is  retentive  ;  nature  is  yet  a  scene  of  novelty  and 
delight ;  and  application  is  a  pleasure^  The  twig  may  now  be  bent 
in  the  direction  in  which  the  tree  is  to  be  inclined. 

Universal  susceptibility  to  instruction,  drawn  from  Nature. — Tn  ». 
diversified  experience  of  nearly  forty  years  in  the  h'eld  of  education, 
one  teacher,  at  least,  can  testify  that  he  has  not  yet  found  the  mind 
so  dull,  or  the  heart  so  callous,  as  to  resist  the  attractive  intellectual 
influence  of  the  analysis  of  even  one  plant  or  one  mineral.  The 
mysteries  of  beauty  and  awe  which  hang  over  such  objects,  as  an 
investing  celestial  glory,  entrancing  the  imagination  and  the  heart, 
and  all  but  translating  the  intellect  itself,  have  a  power  of  attraction 
which  the  dullest,  coarsest,  and  most  brutalized  boy  in  a  ragged 
school,  cannot  resist.  But  of  the  moral  influence  of  early  education, 
when  directed  to  the  aspects  of  nature,  it  will  be  more  appropriate  to 
speak  in  that  special  connection. 

Effects  produced  on  mental  character,  by  the  study  of  Nature. — 
The  solidity  and  the  Jirmness  of  mental  character,  which  are  acquired 
by  the  study  of  things,  preceding  and  accompanying  that  of  words 
and  books,  are  a  natural  effect  of  the  early  and  seasonable  cultivation 
of  the  habit  of  observing,  analyzing,  comparing,  and  classifying,  which 
even  the  slight  examination  of  any  natural  object  induces. — A 
clear,  decisive,  and  discriminating  judgment,  and  a  retentive  memory, 
are  among  the  other  fruits  of  that  mental  training  which  commences 
with  definite  objects,  capable  of  being  analyzed  and  reconstructed  by 
the  natural  and  appropriate  action  of  the  young  mind,  in  virtue  of  its 
own  powers  and  native  tendencies.  But  these  considerations,  also  be- 
long properly  to  another  and  more  advanced  stage  of  intellectual  dis- 
cipline, at  which  the  reflective  faculties,  and  maturing  reason,  are 
beginning  to  put  forth  their  claims  for  culture  and  development,  in 
addition  to  the  preparatory  training  which  they  may  have  received 
in  the  blended  exercises  of  sense  and  intellect,  in  the  action  of  the 
perceptive  faculties. 

(4.)    KNOWLEDGE,    THE    INTELLECTUAL    RESULT    OF     THE    ACTION    OF 
THE    PERCEPTIVE    FACULTIES. 

Impelled  by  the  instinct  of  curiosity,  and  guided  by  the  habit  of 
observation,  the  young  mind, — whether  more  or  less  assisted  by 


22  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE   FACULTIES. 

education, — advances  to  the  goal  designated  by  creative  Wisdom, — 
the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  the  appointed  means  for  erecting  the 
fabric  of  character  on  the  scale  outlined  by  the  Great  Architect,  but 
left  to  man's  industry  and  intelligence,  for  the  filling  up  and  the  sym- 
metry of  detail. 

The  part  of  education  which  lies  more  immediately  before  us,  as 
the  object  of  our  attention,  being  the  cultivation  of  the  intellect,  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge  becomes,  in  this  view,  a  consideration  of 
primary  importance,  as,  at  once,  a  source  of  intellectual  wealth 
and  power,  and  a  most  effective  means  of  mental  development. 
Knowledge,  as  a  result  of  culture,  is  undoubtedly  of  inferior  value  to 
discipline.  But  the  efforts  put  forth  in  the  acquisition  of  genuine 
knowledge,  are,  in  themselves,  a  disciplinary  process,  and  the  indis- 
pensable instruments  of  further  cultivation.  Yet  more, — intellectual 
acquirements  are  true  and  durable  riches, — valuable  for  their  own 
sake,  not  merely  from  the  resources  which  the  accumulation  of  them 
places  at  the  mind's  command,  but  from  their  own  intrinsic  value,  as 
imperishable  because  intellectual  things,  and  as  the  successive  steps 
of  mental  elevation  in  the  scale  of  being.  In  reference  to  intellect, 
knowledge  is,  in  one  most  important  sense,  an  end,  not  less  than  a 
means  and  a  measure  of  progress.  Profound,  extensive,  and  varied 
knowledge,  is  one  of  the  crowning  glories  of  man,  as  an  intellectual 
and  progressive  being,  capable  of  ceaseless  development  and  acquisi- 
tion. Most  emphatically  is  this  true  of  him,  the  soundness,  and  ex- 
actness, and  completeness,  of  whose  knowledge,  are  the  assurance 
that  he  shall  be  a  safe  and  competent  guide  along  the  path  of  edu- 
cation. 

Actual  knowledge. — But  what  is  knowledge  ?     How  is  it  acquired  ? 

not  by  the  repetition  of  the  words  or  the  processes  of  others,  not 
by  the  transfer  from  one  mind  to  another  of  the  verbal  statements 
of  fact  or  of  abstract  principles,  not  by  the  formation  of  vague  and 
partial  notions,  formed  on  superficial  data,  and  floating  loosely  in  the 
mind,  not  by  a  half  perception  or  half  consciousness  of  something 
indefinite  or  supposititious,  not  by  an  assent  to  rash  assumptions  or 
confident  assertions,  not  by  the  recollections  of  extensive  reading,  or 
perhaps,  of  attentive  listening,  retailed  in  fluent  expression,  not  by 
accumulating  the  amplest  furniture  of  second-hand  theories  and  sys- 
tems, whether  plausible  or  absurd,  or  even  logically  consistent. 
!r  \Knowledge  is  what  we  have  experienced  in  our  own  intellect,  by  means 
of  our  own  observation  or  reflection,  the  fruit  of  personal  perception, 
or  of  conscious  reason,  acting  on  the  positive  data  of  sensation^  So 
narrowly  must  the  term  be  limited,  when  we  refer  to  the  action 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  23 

of  the  perceptive  faculties,  or  to  their  appropriate  training  and  disci- 
pline. Knowledge,  in  these  relations,  is  (the  accurate  interpretation 
of  the  facts  of  sense)  in  matters,  usually,  of  color,  form,  number, 
weight,  or  sound,  and  the  relations  which  these  bear  to  one  another 
in  the  processes  of  induction  and  classification.  With  the  other  sense 
of  the  term,  in  which  it  refers  whether  to  truth  or  to  theory,  and  im- 
plies the  deductions  of  reflective  reason,  we  have  not,  at  present,  to 
do.  It  belongs  to  a  subsequent  stage  of  the  analysis  of  the  modes 
of  mental  action,  as  subjected  to  the  processes  of  intellectual  cultiva- 
tion, and  occurs  in  connection  with  the  discipline  of  the  "  reflective  " 
faculties. 

Literal  accuracy  of  verbal  statement,  a  false  test  of  knowledge. — 
The  acquisition  of  knowledge,  however,  is,  notwithstanding  all  our 
advances,  of  late  years,  in  the  philosophy  of  education,  too  generally 
confounded  with  the  repetition  of  the  verbal  statements  of  definitions* 
rules,  and  systems,  as  contained  in  books,  even  in  relations  so  palpa- 
ble as  those  of  form  and  numbers.  The  test  of  knowledge,  accord- 
ingly, with  some  teachers,  to  this  day,  is,  even  in  the  exact  sciences, 
the  fluency  with  which  a  definition  or  a  rule  is  orally  repeated,  ver- 
batim, from  a  text-book,  and  the  mechanical  accuracy  or  despatch 
with  which  a  correspondent  problem  is  solved,  or  a  proposition 
demonstrated. 

True  knowledge  experimental  and  personal.  —  True  perceptive 
knowledge,  on  the  other  hand,  or  that  which  is  actual  and  personal, 
implies,  in  all  relations  of  form  and  number,  that  the  individual  who 
possesses  it,  has  seen  the  object  in  question,  or  its  representative,  in 
palpable  shape,  in  surface  or  in  outline,  that  he  has  subjected  it  to 
actual  measurement  and  comparison,  or  has  an  exact  image  of  its 
form  and  configuration  before  h's  mind,  that  he  has  .actually  counted 
or  grouped  objects  in  numbers  presented  to  the  eye  or  to  the  mind, 
or  that  he  has  compared  these  with  one  another,  and  traced  their  re- 
lations, by  strict  and  exact  observation ;  and  the  proper  office  of  the 
text- book  is  but  to  confirm  and  embody  the  result,  and  classify  it  in 
the  exact  language  and  systematic  arrangement  of  formal  science,  as 
the  specimens  are  labelled  and  shelved  in  a  collector's  cabinet.  The 
use  of  scientific  method,  in  the  statements  of  text-books,  is  but  to 
give  logical  arrangement  to  mental  acquisitions,  not  to  induce  mere 
assent,  whether  silent  or  oral,  and  not  to  facilitate  the  mere  repetition 
or  verbal  enunciation  of  propositions. 

The  proper  business  of  the  teacher,  as  a  superintendent  of  mind. — 
The  true  office  of  the  teacher  is  to  see  that  the  pupil  is  led  by  his 
own  conscious  experience  and  observation,  through  the  process  of 


24  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

perception  prescribed  in  every  exercise  which  he  attempts  ;  that  the 
operation  is  intelligently  performed  at  every  step,  and  the  result  ren- 
dered certain,  as  far  as  the  limitations  of  human  faculties  permit. 
By  frequently  repeated  performance  of  the  requisite  process,  the  prin- 
ciple in  question  thus  becomes  an  integral  part  of  personal  knowledge 
with  the  individual ;  and  his  faculties  receive,  at  the  same  time,  a 
discipline  which  gives  them  facility  and  force  in  all  analogous  pro- 
cedure in  -which  expertness  and  skill  are  desirable  attainments.  In 
due  season,  also,  he  is  able  to  sum  up  his  acquirements  in  knowl- 
edge, in  the  clear  and  definite  and  precise  language  which  science 
demands,  and  of  which  his  text-book  furnishes  a  perfect  specimen  on 
which  he  can  rely. 

At  first,  however,  the  young  operator  may  need  even  the  palpable 
aid  of  actual  objects  ;  and  the  judicious  teacher  knows  well  when  to 
give,  and  when  to  withhold  such  help,  when  to  appeal  to  the  black- 
board, and  when  to  have  his  pupil  rely  on  the  mind's  eye,  during  the 
successive  stages  of  intellectual  training.  He  is  careful,  however,  not 
to  slight  or  hurry  over  the  business  of  the  rudimental  course,  in 
which  the  reference  to  actual  objects  is  the  main  reliance  for  a  sure 
personal  knowledge  of  the  facts  of  form  and  number.  The  collateral 
discipline,  also,  arising  from  the  attentive  observation  and  careful 
study  of  plants,  minerals,  leaves,  insects,  and  other  natural  objects, 
the  intelligent  teacher  values  highly,  from  the  power  of  attention,  and 
the  habit  of  exact  observation,  which  it  tends  to  secure,  by  the  dcfi- 
niteness  which  it  gives  to  the  action  of  the  mind,  and  the  certainty 
which  k  stamps  on  knowledge. 

Contrasted  examples  of  neglect  and  culture. — True  education  has 
no  more  striking  proof  of  its  good  effect  than  may  be  observed,  when 
the  apathy  and  ignorance  of  young  persons  who  have  been  allowed 
to  neglect  the  observation  and  study  of  nature  in  childhood,  and 
afterwards  to  go  through  a  class-drill  on  a  given  branch,  by  means 
of  a  text-book,  are  contrasted  with  the  intelligent  personal  interest 
and  intimate  knowledge  of  those  who  have  been  wisely  induced  to 
turn  an  early  attention  on  the  productions  of  nature,  and  thus  to 
acquire  an  early  love  for  such  studies,  and  a  life-long  enjoyment  of 
the  pleasures  which  they  afford.  Adults  of  the  former  class  take 
little  interest  in  the  f' floral  apostles"  of  the  poet,  who  are  ceaselessly 
preaching  the  perfection  of  their  Source,  or  in  the  pebble  at  their  feet, 
which,  to  the  intelligent  eye,  is  the  medallion  struck  by  the  Creator's 
hand,  in  commemoration  of  one  of  the  epochs  in  His  reign.  These 
eloquent  monitions  of  a  perpetual  Divine  presence,  are,  to  such  minds, 
the  dead  letter  of  a  handwriting  which  they  have  not  been  accustom- 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  25 

ed  to  trace,  and  on  which  their  listless  eye  falls,  as  does  that  of 
the  sceptic,  on  the  page  of  written  revelation.  The  mirui,  on  trie 
other  hand,  which  has  been  early  trained  to  an  intelligent  personal 
interest  in  the  productions  of  Creative  wisdom  and  power,  enjoys  a 
personal  property,  and  a  personal  reference,  in  every  object  in  nature, 
finds,  in  ^the  meanest  flower  that  blows,  thoughts  that  do  often  lie 
too  deep  for  tearsV*  and  ultimately  to  it, 

"  The  delicate  forest  flower. 

With  fragrant  breath,  and  look  BO  like  a  smile, 

Seems,  as  it  issues  from  the  shapeless  mould, 

An  emanation  of  the  indwelling  Life, 

A  visible  token  of  the  upholding  Love, 

"Which  are  the  soul  of  this  wide  universe." 

The  definiten  ess  and  the  certainty,  however,  which  give  conscious 
life  and  power  to  all  such  knowledge,  depend,  to  a  great  extent,  on 
the  faithful  training  which  the  perceptive  power  has  undergone  in  the 
nurturing  stage  of  education.  The  poet  whose  words  of  truth  and 
love  convince  us  that  he  has  attained  to  the  rank  of  an  inspired  seer, 
set  out  on  his  career  from  the  common  starting  place  of  infancy,  in 
blank  ignorance  of  .every  object  and  of  every  fact  around  him ;  and 
his  brother  bard  whose  office  it  is  to  announce,  in  the  language  of 
astronomy,  the  harmony  of  the  spheres,  and  read  to  mankind  the 
legislation  of  the  heavens,  had  no  vantage  ground  at  his  outset  on 
those  excursions  which  ultimately  extend  beyond  Orion  and  the  Pleiades. 
Nor  was  there  any  special  dispensation  antecedent  to  the  slow  but  sure 
processes  of  culture,  in  favor  of  the  electrician  who,  in  the  maturity 
of  his  acquirements,  became  competent  to  transmit  and  diffuse  intel- 
ligence with  the  literal  rapidity  of  lightning ;  and  wnat  shall  we  say 
of  the  barefooted  mason's  boy,  who  commences  his  career  of  "  glory 
and  of  joy,"  plodding  over  the  stone  which  he  has  broken  with  his 
unpracticed  apprentice  hammer,  and,  at  length,  reads,  from  that 
same  fragment,  to  the  delight  and  astonishment  of  mankind,  the  facts 
of  an  antediluvian  world  ?  All  the  treasures  which  such  minds  have 
brought  from  their  various  explorations,  as  tributes  to  the  treasury  of 
science,  and  to  man's  dominion  in  the  sphere  of  knowledge,  are  but 
the  varied  fruits  of  unwearied,  progressive  observation,  accumulating 
fact  upon  fact  by  the  patient  process  of  attentive  examination  of 
objects,  and  by  the  skillful  exercise  of  well  disciplined  perceptive  fac- 
ulties. Such  noble  efforts  of  mental  power  we  contemplate  with  a 
delight  mingled  with  reverence  and  gratitude  to  their  authors,  as 
benefactors  of  the  race.  The  worship  which  human  ignorance,  in  its 
wondering  admiration,  extended,  of  old,  to  the  mythic  demi-god  and 
hero,  might,  we  think,  have  been  pardoned  had  it  been  offered  to 


26  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

our  venerated  contemporary  Humboldt,  who,  at  an  age  rarely  attained 
by  modern  man,  withdraws,  at  intervals,  from  the  onerous  duties  of  a 
councilor  of  state,  to  record  the  acquisitions  of  a  mind  which,  from 
early  years,  has  been  exploring  the  wonders  of  nature,  and  now,  year 
after  year,  pours  forth  another  and  another  book  of  the  great  epic  of 
creation,  to  which  he  has  so  appropriately  given  the  sublime  title, 
"  Cosmos." 

The  written  life  of  this  truly  great  man,  however,  only  enables  us 
to  trace  the  progress  of  another  watchful  observer  of  nature,  as,  step 
by  step,  he  observes,  examines,  compares,  classifies,  aggregates,  and 
accumulates,  till  he  stands  before  us  an  intellectual  Atlas,  upholding 
the  sphere  of  human  knowledge.  Liberal  education,  favorable  oppor- 
tunities faithfully  improved,  an  insatiable  thirst  for  knowledge,  and 
devoted  application  to  the  acquisition  of  it,  explain  the  wonder.  Let 
us  inquire  then,  for  a  moment,  into  the  processes  by  which  human 
culture  achieves  the  miracle  of  such  results*  -^  .  ff 

(5.)    THE    APPROPRIATE    EDUCATIONAL    PROCESSES    FOR  THE    EXERCISE, 
DEVELOPMENT,  AND  DISCIPLINE,  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

The  law  of  progressive  intellection. — Watching  the  successive  steps 
of  man's  intellectual  development,  as  he  advances,  consciously  or  un- 
consciously, in  pliancy  and  power  of  mind,  we  see  him  first  incited 
by  an  irrepressible  principle  of  curiosity,  stimulating  him  to  watchful 
attention,  close  observation,  and  minute  inspection,  for  the  purpose  of 
acquiring  a  satisfactory  knowledge  of  things  around  him  ;  that  he 
may,  in  due  season,  be  prepared  to  enter  upon  a  new  and  higher 
cycle  of  his  ceaseless  progress,  and  from  the  materials  of  perception, 
feed  the  reflective  faculties  of  judgment  and  reason,  which  lead  to  the 
higher  goal  of  truth,  where  alone  the  cravings  of  intellect  can  find 
rest  and  satisfaction. 

Provision  of  educational  apparatus. — The  first  care  of  the  watch- 
ful and  intelligent  teacher,  as  the  guide  and  director  of  the  intellect, 
is  obviously,  in  compliance  with  the  law  of  intellectual  progress,  as 
traced  above,  to  make  liberal  provision  of  the  palpable  material  of 
perception,  by  which  the  instinctive  appetite  of  curiosity  is  at  once 
fed  and  stimulated,  attention  awakened,  observation  secured,  and 
knowledge  attained.  Objects  abundant  in  number,  and  varied  in 
character,  form  and  aspect,  but  chiefly  those  furnished  by  nature,  and, 
more  particularly,  those  which  occur  most  frequently  within  the 
range  of  the  child's  actual  observation,  are  the  true  and  appropriate 
apparatus  of  his  education.  To  the  examination  and  inspection  of 
these  his  mind  naturally  tends  ;  to  the  process  of  extracting  knowl- 
edge from  these,  his  perceptive  powers  are  expressly  adapted  ;  in  such 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  27 

occupation  he  takes  delight ;  working  on  such  material,  he  is  inspired 
by  the  consciousness  of  progress  and  of  perpetually  augmenting  vigor ; 
and  thus  he  becomes  a  willing  and  efficient,  because  an  intelligent 
agent  in  his  own  development. 

DISCIPLINE  OF  THE  SENSES. — Sight ;  color. — Sensation,  though  the 
humblest  form  of  mental  action,  being  the  first  in  the  natural  order 
of  intellectual  development,  suggests  to  the  parent  and  teacher  the 
great  importance  of  a  due  attention  to  the  early  cultivation  of  the 
senses,  especially  of  those  whose  action  is  so  distinctly  intellectual  in 
character  and  result  as  is  that  of  sight  and  hearing.  The  proper  or- 
ganic training  of  the  eye  implies,  what  is  too  often  overlooked,  an 
attentive  regard  to  color ,  as  well  as  form;  the  former  of  these  being 
very  early  developed,  and  evidently,  in  all  normal  cases,  a  source  of 
peculiar  delight  in  infancy,  not  less,  than  of  high  aesthetic  gratification 
in  subsequent  appreciation  of  beauty,  both  in  nature  and  art.  Long 
before  the  infant  shows  any  distinctive  recognition  or  appreciation  of 
form,  it  manifests  a  keen  perception  and  intense  pleasure  in  the  obser- 
vation of  all  objects  of  brilliant  color. 

Under  the  management  of  the  judicious  mother,  balls  of  the  three 
grand  primary  colors  of  the  painter, — blue,  red,  and  yellow, — form 
an  inexhaustible  source  of  pleasure  to  the  infant  eye ;  while  they  give 
an  unconscious  exercise  and  discipline  to  the  perceptive  faculty,  and 
prepare  the  way  for  the  subsequent,  definite,  and  intelligent  recogni- 
tion of  the  great  lines  of  distinction  drawn  on  the  field  of  vision  by 
the  Hand  which  has  blended  color  with  light.  Field  or  garden  flow- 
ers, or  even  wayside  weeds,  placed  within  the  range  of  the  eye,  serve 
a  similar  purpose.  Subsequently,  the  principal  intermediate  grada- 
tions of  color,  as  they  occur  in  objects  of  nature  or  of  art,  in  varied 
tints  and  hues,  may  be  presented  to  the  sight,  in  due  succession,  as  a 
pleasing  exercise  for  the  faculties  of  childhood,  in  its  progress.  For  this 
purpose,  flowers,  the  prism,  the  tints  and  half  tints  of  the  clouds,  the 
glow,  or  the  hue  of  evening  and  morning  skies,  throughout  the  year; 
the  ever-varying  colors  of  autumn,  from  their  fullest  flush  to  their 
gradual  waning  and  decay  ;  all  are  admirable  materials  for  the  intel- 
lectual and  esthetic  cultivation  of  the  human  being,  along  the  suc- 
cessive stages  of  his  development.  The  mind  early  trained  to  a  sense 
of  the  beauty  of  color,  can  hardly  be  withheld,  in  after  years,  from 
the  profoundest  application  to  the  study  of  light,  as  "  a  feast  of  nee- 
tared  sweets,  where  no  crude  surfeit  reigns."  Purity  and  perfection 
of  taste  in  art,  are  another  sure  result  of  early  cultivation,  in  this  res- 
pect. How  much  intelligence,  and  how  much  intensity  of  pure  and 
even  sacred  gratification,  may  thus  be  superadded  to  the  sentiment 


28  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

of  reverential  delight  .in  the  works  of  the  Creator,  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult for  even  the  most  skillful  master  of  expression  to  say. 

Form. — The  early  cultivation  of  a  discriminating  perception  of 
the  distinctive  characters  of  form,  through  a  carefully  conducted,  pro- 
gressive discipline  on  objects  submitted  to  the  eye,  is  one  of  the  most 
purely  intellectual  processes  to  which  the  mind  of  childhood  can  be 
subjected.  The  cube,  the  sphere,  the  cylinder,  the  cone,  the  pyra- 
mid, when  judiciously  introduced  among  the  playthings  of  early 
childhood,  as  was  strikingly  exemplified  in  the  schools  of  Pestalozzi, 
become  unconsciously,  but  most  surely,  a  basis  and  standard  in  all 
the  relations  of  form  ;  and,  under  the  guiding  suggestions  of  the 
teacher,  they  tend  to  give  the  mind  definiteness  and  certainty  in  its 
action,  on  whatever  relates  to  geometrical  details  of  figure  in  nature, 
art,  or  mechanism.  The  primary  truths  of  solid,  superficial,  and  lin- 
ear geometry,  are  thus  imbedded  in  the  mind,  identified  with  its  ac- 
tion on  all  visible  objects,  and  help  to  constitute  the  observer  an 
intelligent  spectator,  through  life,  of  the  grand  elemental  forms  of 
the  universe. 

Measure. — Convenience  and  utility,  too,  have  their  claims  to  urge 
in  favor  of  an  early  discipline  of  the  eye  on  all  details  of  measure- 
ment. An  exact  appreciation  of  measure,  for  in-door  purposes,  should 
be  laid  in  permanent  inch,  and  half  and  quarter  inch  marks,  on  the 
school-room  wall ;  and  to  these  should  be  added  those  of  the  foot 
and  the  yard.  A  mile,  with  its  subdivision  into  halves,  and  quarters, 
should  be  measured  off,  as  a  permanent  standard  for  the  young  eye, 
as  it  approaches  or  leaves  the  threshold  of  the  school-room.  The 
acVe  and  the  rod,  and  all  other  details  of  land  measure,  should  be 
made  familiar  to  the  eye  of  boyhood,  by  express  measurement,  in  the 
nearest  accessible  field  or  square. 

Number. — Veritable  ideas  of  number  belong,  also,  to  the  early  dis- 
cipline of  the  eye,  and  are  greatly  dependent  on  the  actual  presentation 
of  objects,  for  this  special  purpose.  We  read,  in  the  accounts  of  one 
English  exploring  voyage,  that  the  inhabitants  of  one  group  of  islands 
in  the  Pacific,  had  do  definite  ideas  of  any  number  over  five ;  and  ex- 
perienced teachers  are  well  aware  that,  in  the  case  of  pupils  accus- 
tomed to  depend  on  the  mere  verbal  memory  of  the  words  which 
represent  numbers,  and  unprovided  with  a  firm  basis  of  actual  obser- 
vation of  palpable  objects,  and  the  personal  knowledge  which  such 
experience  gives,  there  is  an  obstinate  difficulty  in  forming  definite 
and  distinct  conceptions  of  numbers,  which  resembles,  too  nearly,  the 
confusion  and  helplessness  of  mind  felt  by  those  unfortunate  island- 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  29 

ers,  in  their  attempts  to  transcend  the  limits  of  their  terminal  num- 
ber, five. 

Most  of  the  early  arithmetical  operations  of  very  young  pupils, 
should  consist  in  handling  and  counting  visible  objects,  in  enumera- 
ting marks,  in  grouping  objects  and  marks,  in  numbers  gradually  pro- 
gressive, from  the  smallest  to  the  largest  in  amount ;  so  as  to  secure 
expertness  and  promptness  in  the  process  of  addition,  in  varied  forms. 
Successive  exercises  should  follow  in  multiplication,  in  subtraction, 
and  division,  all  performed,  day  after  day,  on  visible  objects  handled, 
and  on  marks  expressly  made  for  such  purposes  of  training,  before 
the  purely  mental  processes  of  arithmetic  are  attempted  on  abstract 
numbers,  even  of  the  smallest  groups.  A  prevalent  error  with  teach- 
ers still  continues  to  be  that  of  merely  exemplifying  true  teaching  in 
such  forms  as  have  been  mentioned,  for  a  limited  period,  too  limited 
to  tell  upon  the  habits  of  the  mind.  Long  continued  training  alone, 
is  adequate  to  the  proper  purposes  of  discipline,  certainty  and  skill, 
namely,  in  forming  combinations  which  must  sometimes  be  both  ex- 
tensive and  complicated.  It  is  unreasonable  to  expect  rapidity  and 
expertness  in  the  processes  of  mental  arithmetic,  without  the  prepar- 
atory discipline  which  results  from  the  actual  observation  of  the  facts 
of  number  and  combination,  in  objects  presented  to  the  senses.  Such 
discipline  alone,  can  yield  that  personal  knowledge,  and  that  con- 
scious grasp  of  mind,  which  give  clearness  and  certainty  to  the  action 
of  the  intellect  in  arithmetical  operations. 

Natural  objects  :  animated  forms. — But  it  is  not  merely  the  con- 
templation of  inanimate  objects  which  the  mind,  in  childhood, 
requires  as  a  foundation  for  true  perception  and  exact  observation,  or 
as  a  means  of  securing  prompt  and  sustained  attention.  The  liberal 
training  of  the  senses,  as  a  primary  step  in  intellectual  cultivation, 
extends  the  study  of  color,  form,  number,  and  sound,  to  the  rich  do- 
main, of  animated  nature,  in  the  animal  as  well  as  the  vegetable  king- 
dom, and  thus  brings  the  vivid  sympathy  of  the  young  heart  with 
kindred  life  and  motion  to  the  aid  of  the  opening  intellect.  From 
the  pebble,  the  shell,  the  flower,  and  the  leaf,  the  judicious  mother 
and  teacher  will  pass  to  the  insect,  the  bird,  the  quadruped,  and  the 
fish  ;  and  as  their  individualities  and  diversities  are  successively  enu- 
merated and  dwelt  upon,  the  details  of  color,  form,  and  number, 
arrest  and  fix  the  volatile  attention  of  the  child,  and  win  him  to 
habits  of  close,  minute,  and  exact  observation. 

^/.Analysis  and  classification,  the  two  great  master  powers  for  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  in  whatever  direction,  are  also  thus  called 
in  to  aid  the  progress  of  the  young  observer  in  his  study  of  nature. 


SO  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

The  tendency  of  the  mind  to  observe,  compare,  examine,  and  classify 
whatever  is  submitted  to  its  action,  thus  early  encouraged  and  stimu- 
lated, becomes  an  habitual  trait  of  the  mental  character,  and  tells, 
with  powerful  effect,  on  the  intellectual  progress  of  the  individual,  in 
the  more  abstract  relations  of  language  and  of  mathematics.  It  is  a 
great  error  to  suppose  that,  because  of  the  intense  pleasure  which 
attends  the  study  of  natural  objects,  there  is  not  a  profound  and  rig- 
orous discipline  of  mind  attending  the  equally  intense  intellectual 
action  which  accompanies  the  pleasure.  Analytic  examination  is  one 
and  the  same  process,  whether  it  is  directed  to  the  component  parts 
of  a  plant  or  of  a  word.  Keen  and  penetrating  attention,  close, 
minute,  and  thoughtful  observation,  exhaustive  analysis,  systematic 
arrangement,  and  methodical  classification,  are  equally  indispensable 
in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  But  in  giving  precedence  to  the 
study  of  the  object,  and  postponing  that  of  the  word,  we  are  obeying 
the  ordination  of  the  Creator,  who  has  furnished  the  apparatus  of 
the  first  stages  of  human  development,  in  the  natural  objects  which 
first  solicit  the  attention  of  the  child,  by  the  attractions  of  beauty 
and  pleasure. 

Pictorial  art. — Nor  is  it  only  by  means  of  natural  objects  that  the 
sense  of  sight  contributes  to  the  exercise  and  discipline  of  the  per- 
ceptive intellect.  Art,  too,  renders  here  a  rich  tribute  to  the  re- 
sources of  education.  Models  and  pictures,  and  the  humblest  attempts 
to  produce  these,  as  repetitions  of  the  mental  impressions  received  from 
nature,  give  inexpressible  delight  to  the  susceptible  and  imitative  spirit 
of  childhood.  Their  effect  is  invaluable,  in  training  the  perceptive 
faculties  to  the  keenest,  closest,  long-sustained  action,  without  the 
sense  of  weariness  or  fatigue;  and  their  inspiring  and  refreshing 
influence  gives  vivacity  and  force  to  the  whole  mind.  The  clear  per- 
ception, fixed  attention,  watchful  observation,  and  active  exertion, 
which  they  both  require  and  cherish,  particularly  when  the  child  is 
permitted  to  attempt  to  produce  imitative  efforts  of  his  own,  in  draw- 
ing or  modelling,  meet  so  successfully  the  craving  of  the  young 
spirit  for  action  and  endeavor,  that  they  become  powerful  aids  to 
mental  development.  The  working  hand  is  thus  brought  to  the  aid 
of  the  active  eye,  as  a  test,  at  the  same  time,  of  its  correctness  of 
vision,  which  is  proved  by  the  degree  of  truthfulness  in  the  delinea- 
tion. '  This  productive  method  of  exercising  the  perceptive  and  exec- 
utive faculties,  yields  to  the  child  the  peculiar  delight  of  having 
achieved  something  palpable,  as  a  proof  of  power,  and  is,  meanwhile, 
working  in  his  mind  the  silent  effect  which  is  to  appear,  in  due  season, 
in  the  symmetry  and  gracefulness  of  his  handwriting^  and  the  neat- 
ness of  whatever  he  attempts,  whether  in  plan  or  execution. 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  gj 

The  ear :  music. — The  varied  world  of  sound,  comprising  music 
and  speech,  is  another  wide  field  of  culture  to  the  intelligent  mother 
and  the  elementary  teacher.  The  extent  to  which  the  sense  of  sight 
may  be  cultivated,  as  regards  precision  and  certainty  and  truth  of 
action,  is  indicated  in  the  perfection  which  is  attained  by  the  sculptor 
and  the  painter,  whose  copies  of  nature  are,  in  some  instances,  so 
faithful,  and  so  beautifully  perfect,  as  to  confer  an  immortality  of 
fame  upon  their  authors.  But  little  notice,  comparatively,  is  taken  of 
the  delicate  susceptibility  of  the  ear,  in  relation  to  the  offices  of  cul- 
ture. Yet  no  sense,  not  even  that  of  sight  itself,  is  capable  of  attain- 
ing to  so  high  perfection  by  the  aids  of  training  and  discipline.  The 
innumerable  minute  distinctions  of  sound,  which  the  performance  of 
even  a  single  piece  of  music,  by  a  single  performer,  often  requires ; 
but,  still  more,  the  multitude  which  the  composer  of  one  of  the  mas- 
ter-pieces of  harmony  must  be  capable  of  recognizing,  discriminating, 
and  combining,  with  a  measured  v  exactness  transcending  all  other 
efforts  of  perceptive  intellect:  these  remind  us,  most  impressively,  of 
the  extent  and  value  of  cultivation,  when  we  recall  the  fact,  that 
the  performer  and  the  composer  commenced  their  artistic  training  on 
the  common  footing  of  all  human  beings,  a  percipient  mind,  and  an 
organ  capable  of  telegraphing  to  it  the  notes  of  the  singing  bird,  the 
song  of  the  mother  or  the  nurse,  or  the  artless  strains  of  some  juve- 
nile performer  on  pipe  or  flute. 

Speech. — We  have  yet  another  proof  of  the  susceptibility  of  the 
ear  to  the  influences  of  cultivation,  when  "  the  well  trod  stage,"  in 
the  exhibition  of  a  play  of  the  '  myriad-minded'  Shakspeare,  displays 
in  the  voice  of  the  skillful  actor,  th'e  whole  world  of  human  passion, 
with  its  ever-varying  tones,  uttered  in  the  language  of  poetic  inspira- 
tion, now  moulded  by  the  serene  influence  of  heavenly  contempla- 
tion, as  when  Lorenzo  speaks  to  Jessica,  while  they  sit  on  the  moon- 
lit bank,  of  the  "  smallest  orb  which  she  beholds,  still  quiring  to  the 
young-eyed  cherubim  ; "  now  breathing  the  deep  tones  of  Hamlet, 
solemnly  musing  on  the  mysteries  of  life,  and  death,  and  destiny  ; 
now  the  hollow  mutterings  of  conscious  guilt  from  Macbeth,  while 
meditating  the  murder  from  which  he  yet  recoils ;  now  the  hoarse 
accents  of  remorse  wrung  from  the  bosom  of  him  whose  "  offence  is 
rank"  with  the  blood  of  "a  brother's  murder;"  now  the  scarce  articu- 
late horror  of  "  false,  fleeting,  purjured  Clarence ; "  the  maddened 
scream  of  mingling  grief  and  rage  from  the  injured  mother,  Con- 
stance ;  the  love  raptures  of  the  empassioned  Romeo ;  the  ringing 
laughter  of  Mercutio ;  or  the  torture  of  Othello,  as  he  fluctuates  from 


32  EDUCATION   OF  THE   PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

the  ecstacies  of  overflowing  love  and  joy,  to  the  curses  of  hatred,  the 
outbursts  of  grief,  and  the  agonies  of  despair. 

In  all  these  forms  the  well  trained  actor,  by  the  mastery  of  his 
artistic  skill,  exerts  a  power  over  the  sympathies  of  his  audience 
which  far  transcends  the  highest  achievements  of  representative  art 
in  any  other  form.  The  arduous  training  to  which  the  histrionic 
artist  subjects  his  voice,  in  order  to  produce  such  effects,  shows  to 
what  extent  the  cultivation  of  the  ear  may  be  carried.  It  is  by  the 
indications  of  this  faithful,  prompting  monitor,  that  he  guides  every 
step  of  his  vocal  efforts,  till  he  attains  to  those  consummate  effects  of 
genius  which,  in  some  instances,  have  conferred  on  the  individual  a 
fame  coextensive  with  the  civilized  world.  Yet  he  who  is,  perhaps, 
thus  renowned,  commenced  his  early  efforts,  with  the  usual  stumb- 
ling utterance  of  a  school-boy. 

Enunciation. — Passing  from  the  higher  sphere  of  music  and  poe- 
try, in  their  influence  on  the  cultivation  of  the  intellect,  through  the 
medium  of  sense,  we  come  to  one  of  the  most  important  stages  of 
education,  in  the  discipline  of  the  voice  for  the  useful  purposes  of 
speech,  as  dependent  on  accuracy  of  ear, — the  only  reliable  guide  to 
correct  results.  The  unconscious  freedom  with  which  we  utter 
thoughts  in  our  native  tongue,  leaves  all  persons  who  are  not  advan- 
tageously trained  by  precept  or  example,  exposed  to  the  evils  of  incor- 
rect habit,  in  utterance.  The  extensive  prevalence,  also,  of  corrupted 
usage,  in  the  negligent  practice  of  general  society,  increases  the  liabil- 
ity to  error  in  the  style  of  the  individual.  There  was  wisdom  in  the 
Roman  maxim,  that  the  nurses  of  children  ought  to  be  persons  of 
correct  habit,  in  enunciation.  The  influence  of  early  example,  is  the 
most  binding  rule  of  speech,  as  the  baffled  and  disappointed  teacher, 
after  all  his  endeavors,  is  often  made  to  feel. 

One  early  begun  and  long  continued  daily  practice,  in  primary 
training,  should  consist  in  the  careful,  correct,  and  distinct  articula- 
tion of  the  component  elements  of  speech,  as  accomplished  in  our 
own  language.  These  should,  at  first,  be  practiced  with  reference  to 
the  exact  sound  of  every  letter  of  the  alphabet,  singly  and  separately ; 
afterwards  they  should  be  enunciated  in  the  groups  which  constitute 
syllables,  on  a  graduated  progressive  scale  of  difficulty,  till  every  vari- 
ety of  combination  can  be  uttered  with  perfect  distinctness  and  per- 
fect fluency ;  finally,  the  pronunciation  of  words  should  be  practiced 
in  a  similar  manner,  till  the  style  of  the  young  learner  is  freed  from 
all  corrupt  and  local  mannerism,  and  he  is  prepared  to  take  his  place 
among  the  cultivated  in  speech  as  well  as  thought,  and,  by  his  per- 
sonal manner  of  expression,  to  evince  the  style  of  educated  habit  as 
preferable  to  that  of  vulgar  negligence. 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES  33 

Elocution, — In  the  secondary  and  in  the  more  advanced  stages  of 
education,  the  discipline  of*  the  ear  should  be  extended,  so  as  to  em- 
brace all  the  refining  and  highly  intellectual  influences  of  music  and 
poetry,  as  combined  in  elocution. 

Intellect,  feeling,  and  imagination,  are  all  inseparably  united  in  the 
appropriate  expression  of  sentiment,  as  embodied  in  the  language  of 
oratory  and  poetry  •  and  their  finest  effects  in  utterance  depend  on  a 
nice  susceptibility  of  ear,  which  culture  only  can  secure  to  full  extent. 
Music  and  elocution,  the  most  humanizing  of  all  arts,  prescribe  the 
apparatus  and  the  forms  of  training  to  which  the  ear  should  be  sub- 
jected, through  the  whole  course  of  education.  In  the  analysis  and 
the  discrimination  which  vocal  discipline  demands,  in  the  recognition 
which  it  secures  of  the  almost  infinitely  diversified  and  ever  varying 
character  of  tones,  in  their  expression  of  intelligence  or  of  emotion,  there 
is  an  admirable  discipline  of  intellect  implied,  which,  though  less  for- 
mally displayed  than  in  other  modes  of  exercise,  is  not,  on  that 
account,  the  less  effectual.  Of  the  high  moral  value  of  the  suscepti- 
bility which  such  training  tends  to  cherish,  it  is  not  now  the  appro- 
priate time  to  speak.  We  may  advert  to  it  under  a  subsequent  head. 

The  subject  of  healthful  physical  training  is  not  now  under  con- 
sideration ;  yet  sensation,  and  consequent  perception,  are  dependent 
on  the  condition  of  the  organs  of  sense,  and  therefore  of  the  whole 
corporeal  frame,  which  must  be  in  a  healthy  condition  to  secure  the 
natural  and  true  action  of  nerve  and  brain, — the  apparatus  of  percep- 
tive action  in  the  intellect.  The  attentive  and  efficient  cultivation  of 
health  should  be  regarded,  not  merely  as  a  condition  of  intellectual 
life,  but  as  the  first  step  in  the  formation  of  intellectual  character. 
The  clear  eye  and  the  quick  ear  of  health  are  highly  intellectual  in 
their  tendencies,  and  are  for  ever  detecting  and  offering  material  for 
the  intellect  to  examine  or  explore.  The  dull  organs  of  a  morbid 
frame,  on  the  contrary,  are  too  torpid  to  respond  to  the  awakening 
touch  or  beckoning  invitation  of  nature,  and  leave  the  clouded  intel- 
lect to  sleep  or  to  dream. 

PROGRESSIVE    CHARACTER    OF    THE     PROPER    DISCIPLINE    OF    THE    PER- 
CEPTIVE   FACULTIES. 

The  varied  exercises  of  eye  and  ear,  as  organs  of  sentient 
mind,  should  always,  under  the  guiding  management  of  the  teacher, 
advance  in  intellectual  character  from  stage  to  stage,  so  as  to  secure 
the  benefits  of  a  progressive  discipline,  commencing,  indeed,  at  the 
threshold  of  sense,  but  ever  tending  more  and  more  inward,  till  they 
become  nearly  inseparable  from  the  action  and  character  of  pure 
intellect.  They  thus  render  the  keen  eye  and  the  quick  ear  prompters  to 

1  C 


34  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

clear  perception,  fixed  attention,  penetrating  observation,  careful  com- 
parison, and  discriminating  judgment,  and  so  conduct  to  consummate 
intelligence. 

The  teacher  who  works  in  intelligent  cooperation  with  the  consti- 
tution of  the  beings  whose  character  it  is  his  office  to  mould,  is  con- 
tent to  labor  patiently  in  the  field  of  sensation,  as,  at  first,  forming  the 
sole  ground  on  which  he  can  rationally  meet  the  dawning  mind,  with 
the  hope  to  exert  a  genial  and  effectual  influence  on  its  development. 
He  dwells  long,  accordingly,  on  the  prominent  outward  characteris- 
tics of  objects,  as  most  accessible  to  the  unpracticed  faculties  of  infancy, 
as  best  adapted  to  elicit  their  activity,  and  tempt  them  forth  to  more 
and  more  energetic  effort.  He  furnishes,  with  no  sparing  hand,  the 
opportunities  of  intuition,  in  the  abundance  and  variety  of  the  objects 
which  he  presents  to  the  senses.  He  selects  these,  however,  with 
such  judgment  and  skill  that  the  young  mind  shall  be  incapable 
of  regarding  them  with  a  mere  vacant  aspection  or  listless  intuition, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  shall  be  made  to  feel  that  there  is  within  them 
a  soliciting  power,  a  magnetic  attraction,  to  which  its  own  nature 
responds,  and  by  which  it  is  led  on,  from  stage  to  stage,  till  it  finds 
itself  in  possession  of  the  mental  treasures  of  clear  perception  and 
definite  knowledge. 

VOLUNTARY    EXERCISE    OF    THE     PERCEPTIVE    FACULTIES,    A    CONDITION 
OF    INTELLECTUAL    DEVELOPMENT. 

Attention  as  a  voluntary  act. — The  teacher  who  recognizes  the 
law  of  intellectual  growth,  is  aware  that,  in  adopting  measures  to 
aid  the  progressive  unfolding  of  the  perceptive  faculties,  he  may  trust 
largely  to  the  mind's  own  instinctive  and  spontaneous  tendencies  to 
action,  if  only  due  provision  is  made  for  mental  activity,  by  supplying 
the  objects  of  sense  which  naturally  invite  and  stimulate  perception. 
But  regarding  the  mind  as  a  voluntary  and  self-directing  agent,  ho, 
knows  that  unless  its  own  efficient  cooperation  is  secured  in  the  pro- 
cesses on  which  its  energies  are  exerted,  its  activity  will  be  ever  tending 
to  subside,  or  to  degenerate  into  mechanical  and  unmeaning  routine. 
The  result,  he  is  aware,  must,  in  such  circumstances,  be  a  morbid 
intellectual  inertness  of  habit,  or  a  deceptive  show  of  forced  organic 
action,  instead  of  the  movements  of  mental  life.  His  great  endeavor, 
therefore,  will  be  to  succeed  in  evoking  ATTENTION, — that  power  of 
the  mind  which  brings  into  vigorous  and  efficient  activity  the  percipi- 
ent intellect, — that  power  which,  by  its  own  innate  force,  impels  and 
sustains  perception,  in  whatever  direction  it  is  called  to  act,  or  in  what- 
ever process  it  is  employed. 

The  customary  definition  of  this  power,  or  faculty,  as  voluntary  per- 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  35 

eeption,  suggests  to  the  educator  his  true  office  in  cultivating  and 
developing  it.  It  implies  that  he  no  longer  restricts  his  efforts  to 
presenting  such  objects  as  solicit  and  secure  the  mind's  notice,  by  the 
law  of  natural  instinct,  but  that,  addressing  himself  to  the  principle 
of  volition,  he  calls  it  forth,  as  a  moving  force,  impelling  the  mental 
machinery  from  within,  and  enabling  it  to  arrive  at  knowledge,  by  its 
own  action.  The  true  teacher  never  commits  the  error  of  resorting 
to  the  exercise  of  his  own  will,  instead  of  that  of  his  pupil,  as  the  pro- 
pelling power.  He  is  aware  that  his  success,  as  an  educator,  is  to  be 
measured,  not  by  the  force  with  which  he  can  bring  his  own  power 
of  compulsion  to  bear  on  the  faculties  of  his  pupils,  but  by  the  intens- 
ity with  which  he  can  bring  their  mental  energies  into  voluntary  play, 
in  processes  which  leave  a  residuum  of  living  force,  as  a  result  on 
mental  character.  He  knows  well  that  no  degree  of  exertion  can 
command  attention,  by  a  mere  act  of  will,  at  the  moment ;  that,  by 
the  law  of  the  mental  constitution,  a  train  of  circumstances  must  be 
laid  before  the  desired  result  can  be  ensured  ;  that  an  exercise  of  will 
is  not,  in  the  natural  analogies  of  mental  action,  a  merely  arbitrary 
act  of  self-determination ;  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  will  is  solicited 
by  desire  ;  a  feeling  or  affection  of  the  mind  being  the  natural  and 
necessary  preliminary  to  volition ;  and  that  the  intelligent  guide  of 
the  intellectual  powers  must,  therefore,  appeal  to  feeling,  as  the  natu- 
ral and  reliable  prompter  of  the  will.  In  other  words,  the  educa- 
tional process,  rightly  conducted,  is  so  contrived  as  to  create  a  desire 
to  arrive  at  the  given  result,  and  proceeds  upon  that  security  for  the 
action  of  will  in  determining  the  direction  of  the  mind,  and  sustain- 
ing the  exertion  of  its  powers. 

Trained  under  such  influences,  a  disciplined  attention  is  the  sure 
fruit  of  culture ;  and  power  of  attention  is  not  unjustly  termed  the 
key  which  unlocks  all  the  gates  of  knowledge,  and  secures  an  entrance 
to  its  innermost  secrets  of  intelligence. 

Attention,  as  a  power  or  mode  of  intellectual  action,  regarded  in 
connection  with  the  cultivation  of  the  perceptive  faculties,  requires 
the  application  of  the  various  expedients  by  which  it  may  be  rendered 
prompt,  earnest,  close,  and  continuous,  as  the  exigencies  of  subjects 
and  of  the  mind  may  demand. 

Promptness  of  attention. — Such  results  imply  that  the  educator, 
as  a  skillful  gymnasiarch  in  the  arena  of  mind,  trains  it  through  every 
variety  of  evolution  by  which  it  may  be  rendered  quick  in  move- 
ment, ever  ready  for  instantaneous  action,  so  as  to  secure  that 
pliancy  and  versatility  by  which  it  can  at  once  direct  itself  to  its 
object,  or  relinquish  one  object  or  train  of  thought  for  another,  when 


36  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

the  moment  for  change  has  arrived,  and  pursue  the  object  of  its  aim 
with  whatever  velocity  of  motion  may  be  requisite  to  reach  it,  in  due 
season. 

Speed  and  despatch,  however,  not  haste  and  hurry,  should  be  the 
ends  at  which  the  teacher  aims  in  all  drilling  processes.  A  wakeful 
and  lively  attention,  ever  on  the  alert  for  action,  implies  sound  and 
healthful  and  invigorating  training.  A  harassed  and  exhausted  mind, 
dragged  or  driven  along  the  path  of  exercise  too  arduous,  or  too  long 
continued,  can  never  yield  the  results  of  genuine  discipline. 

With  very  young  pupils,  especially,  the  obvious  indication  of  nature 
is,  make  free  use  of  striking  and  attractive  objects,  illustrations,  and 
remarks.  One  object  at  a  time ;  words  few  and  well  chosen  ;  no  lag- 
ging or  drawling  on  the  part  of  either  pupil  or  teacher,  yet  no  hurry, 
no  impatience,  no  impetuosity ;  proceeding  smoothly  and  swiftly,  but 
quietly  and  gently  in  all  movements ;  yet  sometimes,  for  the  purpose 
of  arresting  attention,  adopting  the  grateful  surprise  of  a  sudden 
change,  briskly  executed  : — these  are  the  characteristics  of  skillful  and 
genial  training,  such  as  quickens  the  life  power  of  intellect. 

Earnestness  of  attention. — The  power  of  earnest  attention  is  an- 
other trait  of  mental  habit  to  which  the  successful  teacher  directs  his 
endeavors,  as  an  invaluable  attainment  to  be  secured,  through  his 
agency,  by  his  pupils.  To  this  end,  he  avoids  carefully  all  exercises 
not  interesting  or  inviting  to  the  young  mind.  Objects,  pictures,  pen- 
etrating questions,  vigorous  exertion,  in  varied  forms,  for  mind  and 
body, — strenuous  endeavor  called  forth,  at  intervals,  to  cope  with 
difficulties,  interesting  facts  stated,  or  stories  told, — the  wonders  of 
nature  and  of  art  exhibited,  interesting  conversation  maintained,  in 
which  the  pupils  interchange  thoughts  with  the  teacher,  ivord-pic- 
t^ires  of  peculiar  power  and  beauty,  selected  from  the  poets,  early 
attempts  at  drawing,  exercises  in  planning  and  building,  tangible  illus- 
trations in  architecture,  masonry,- carpentry,  or  joiner- work,  in  juve- 
nile style,  for  hours  of  recreation,  the  analysis  of  plants,  the  tracing 
of  the  anatomy  of  animal  forms,  in  specimens  of  insect  organization, 
in  the  osseous  construction  of  birds,  fishes,  reptiles,  <fec. ;  all  lessons 
made,  as  far  as  practicable,  matter  of  active  work,  rather  than  merely 
passive  attention  ;  the  ceaseless  use  of  the  slate,  the  pencil,  and  the 
blackboard,  in  recording,  repeating,  and  illustrating  every  thing  which 
admits  of  such  forms  of  expression  ;  these,  and  every  other  resort 
which  ingenuity  can  invent,  are  all  required  in  the  exigencies  of  actual 
teaching. 

Earnest  attention  and  strenuous  application,  on  the  part  of  pupils, 
are;  the  natural  result  and  unfailing  reward  of  the  teacher's  own  facil- 
ity and  skill  in  devising  and  executing  inspiring  models  of  whatever 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  37 

he  would  have  his  pupils  execute.  The  efficacy  of  his  own  ear,  eye, 
and  hand,  secured  by  his  own  self  culture,  is  the  only  guaranty  of 
his  success,  as  a  faithful  trainer  of  the  perceptive  faculties.  The  gen- 
eral introduction  of  music  and  drawing,  now  in  progress  in  all  well- 
taught  schools,  together  with  the  increasing  attention  given  to  ele- 
mentary lessons  in  botany  and  mineralogy,  is  opening  a  highly  ben- 
eficial course  of  discipline  for  the  young  mind,  in  whatever  concerns 
the  power  of  earnest  and  effective  attention,  as  an  attribute  of  intel- 
lectual character. 

Closeness  of  attention. — The  thorough  discipline  of  attention,  how- 
ever, as  the  directing  force  of  the  perceptive  faculties,  implies  that  it 
is  not  only  rendered  prompt  and  earnest  in  action,  but  close  and  minute 
in  its  ^application.  A  faithful  analysis  is  conditioned,  in  all  depart- 
ments of  study,  on  a  clear  and  distinct  perception  of  every  particular. 
Nothing  must  be  suffered  to  escape  notice.  No  analysis  can  be  com- 
plete that  is  not  exhaustive,  to  the  extent  of  its  object.  Close  and 
minute  inspection  is  indispensable  for  the  exact  observation  of  many 
of  the  most  instructive  and  the  most  beautiful  of  the  details  of  nature, 
in  the  forms  of  animal  and  vegetable  life, — for  the  successful  watching 
of  the  processes  of  chemistry, — for  forming  exact  estimations  of  quan- 
tity and  number, — for  tracing  the  diversities  of  even  inanimate  form, 
the  delicate  gradations  of  color,  the  minutest  difference  of  sound  and 
form,  in  the  details  of  language,  together  with  all  the  nicer  distinctions, 
and  discriminations  of  thought,  when  embodied  in  words,  for  the  pur- 
poses of  communication. 

To  secure  these  results,  we  are  again  directed  to  the  early  and  effec- 
tual training  of  the  perceptive  faculties  on  the  objects  of  nature,  as  the 
first  step  in  the  true  education  of  the  mind.  The  minutest  point  of 
form  in  the  structure  of  leaf  or  blossom,  the  child  traces  with  relight ; 
and  this  native  tendency  of  mental  action,  extended  in  its  range  of 
objects,  and  confirmed  by  the  law  of  habit,  becomes  not  only  a  source 
of  intellectual  enjoyment,  but  of  conscious  power  and  ultimate  success, 
in  all  investigations,  not  merely  of  nature  and  external  objects,  but,  by 
the  inevitable  law  of  analogy,  in  every  department  of  research  on 
which  the  intellect  is  competent  to  enter.  The  power  of  close  atten- 
tion, sharpened  by  judicious  early  training  of  the  perceptive  faculties, 
attains  in  due  season,  to  consummate  certainty  and  success  in  those 
processes  of  minute  analysis  which  are,  in  many  instances,  the  crown- 
ing glories  of  science. 

No  contrast  can  be  more  striking  than  that  exhibited  in  the  two 
cases  of  neglect  and  culture,  in  this  relation  of  mental  action.  On  the 
one  hand,  we  have  the  loose,  superficial,  imperfect  attention,  which 


38  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

glides  listlessly  over  the  surface  of  tilings,  without  note,  and  conse- 
quently without  knowledge  ;  on  the  other  we  see  an  acute,  keen,  pene- 
trating, searching  inspection,  which  nothing  escapes, — a  mind  whose 
knowledge  is  exact  and  complete,  whose  information  is  the  result  of 
narrowly  examined  and  well  ascertained  particulars. 

The  intelligent  teacher,  knowing  that  the  keenest  exercises  of  dis- 
criminating judgment  are,  by  the  law  of  mental  constitution  and  habit, 
not  unfrequently  dependent  on  the  close  examination  of  details,  on  the 
power  of  tracing  and  detecting  the  minutest  shades  of  difference  in 
objects  and  their  component  parts,  leads  his  pupils,  by  the  closeness 
of  his  questioning,  to  follow  the  minutest  ramifications  of  diversity,  amrd 
apparent  similarity,  in  the  objects  which  he  uses  as  instruments  for 
sharpening  their  perceptions  to  the  keenest  inspection  of  every  feature 
which  is  accessible  to  the  discernment  of  sense.  Beyond  this  point 
he  passes  to  the  use  of  the  microscope,  one  of  the  most  valuable  imple- 
ments ever  devised  as  an  aid  to  the  processes  of  human  culture.  A 
cheap  instrument  of  this  description,  in  the  hands  of  an  attentive  teacher, 
has  a  power  which  no  degree  of  mental  inertia  can  resist.  It  has  been 
known  to  convert,  in  a  few  days,  a  whole  school  of  uncultivated, 
thoughtless,  turbulent  children  into  an  attentive,  thoughtful,  inquiring, 
docile,  and  orderly  company  of  little  students  of  nature. 

A  few  minutes  occupied  daily  in  observing  and  tracing  the  forms 
of  objects,  in  detail,  is,  in  addition  to  its  ultimate  effects  on  mental 
habit,  of  the  greatest  service  in  the  humble  relations  of  alphabetic 
teaching.  A  ground  work  is  thus  laid  for  the  accurate  recognition  of 
the  elements  of  form  combined  in  the  visible  shapes  of  printed  and 
written  characters,  and  a  surer  and  more  rapid,  because  a  more  intel- 
ligent, progress  secured,  as  regards  the  accuracy  of  the  eye  in  recog- 
nizing, or  of  the  hand  in  repeating  the  lines,  angles,  and  curves,  which 
constitute  the  complex  forms  of  letters.  Accustomed  to  the  close  and 
minute  analysis  of  form  on  visible  objects  of  different  sorts,  the  child, 
if  permitted  to  treat  his  alphabetic  characters  in  a  similar  way,  takes 
delight  in  detecting  and  naming  their  constituent  parts  ;  and,  particu- 
larly, when  he  is  permitted  to  try  to  delineate  them  for  himself,  and 
thus,  as  it  were,  bring  them  under  a  kind  of  ideal  subjection  to  his 
power. 

The  discipline  of  particular  observation  and  searching  attention, 
early  secured,  becomes,  in  due  season,  a  complete  guaranty  for  the 
correct  and  successful  performance  of  the  various  gradations  of  math- 
ematical problems  in  which  a  well  trained  and  exact  attention  is 
required,  whether  for  the  relations  of  form  or  those  of  numbers ;  and 
Throughout  the  successive  stages  of  education,  in  all  its  departments. 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  39 

The  well  trained  mind  becomes  ultimately  like  the  thoroughly  mag- 
netized instrument,  which  leaves  no  stray  particles  of  the  steel-filings 
scattered  abroad,  but  agglomerates  them  every  one  to  itself;  with  a 
certainty  which  renders  the  act  no  unfitting  analogy  for  illustrating 
the  universal  law  of  gravitation. 

Tenacity  of  attention. — Having  used  his  best  endeavors  to  render 
the  faculty  of  attention  prompt,  earnest,  and  close,  in  its  action,  as  the 
guide  of  the  perceptive  faculties,  the  teacher  has  yet  another  character  to» 
stamp  upon  it.  He  would  have  it  not  only  quick  and  vivid,  and 
searching,  but  tenacious  and  persistent.  From  an  element  volatile, 
fluctuating,  and  superficial,  in  its  first  manifestations,  he  would  have 
it  become,  at  length,  a  power  fixed,  and  steadfast,  and  unfailing. 
Patiently  training  it  through  its  incipient  stage  of  short,  feeble  flights, 
he  inures  it  to  lengthened  excursions  and  sustained  exertions,  such  as 
all  valuable  mental  attainments  demand.  Here,  again,  Nature  comes 
to  his  aid,  furnishing  him  liberally  not  only  with  numerous  instru- 
ments of  discipline  in  her  manifold  forms,  as  objects,  individually, 
attractive  and  interesting,  but  with  those  complexities  of  shape,  and 
color,  arid  number,  those  organic  relations,  and  organic  contrivances, 
those  compound  bodies,  those  intricate  combinations  of  elements  and 
processes,  which  all  require  not  only  an  earnest  and  close,  but  a  long- 
sustained,  unflagging  attention,  as  the  only  condition  of  faithful  and 
exact  observation  and  accurate  knowledge. 

The  intelligent  teacher  watches  carefully  the  progressive  develop- 
ment of  his  pupil's  power  of  attention,  and  exercises  it  according  to 
the  increasing  force  and  firmness  of  its  grasp,  so  as  to  secure  a  per- 
petually growing  power  of  retention,  through  all  the  successive  exer- 
cises which  he  contrives  for  its  discipline,  on  natural  and  artificial 
forms,  their  various  combinations,  numbers,  powers,  and  characteristics, 
of  whatever  denomination  in  the  vocabularies  of  science  and  art. 

Regarding  attention  as  the  master  power  in  the  grasp  of  the  percep- 
tive faculties,  he  values,  most  of  all,  its  strength  and  retentiveness,  its 
ability  to  maintain  an  unbroken  sequence  of  activity,  such  as  not  un- 
frequently  demands  the  incitement  of  the  most  earnest  desire  to  arrive 
at  the  wished  for  result,  and  produce,  in  turn,  the  most  resolute  deter- 
mination of  the  will  to  persevere  in  action  till  the  result  is  mastered. 

Here,  again,  the  teacher  finds  his  best  resort  in  the  objects  and  pro- 
cesses of  nature ;  unwearied  attention  is  in  no  way  so  •  effectually 
secured,  without  undue  or  fatiguing  exertion,  as  in  analyzing  and  in- 
specting the  various  parts  of  plants,  or  the  anatomical  mechanism  of 
animal  forms,  and,  more  particularly,  of  insects.  While  no  humane 
or  enlightened  teacher  would  ever  propose  even  one  half  hour  of 


40  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

unbroken  attention,  on  the  part  of  very  young  pupils,  twice  that  time 
may  safely  and  advantageously  pass  in  the  suggestive  questions  of  the 
teacher,  and  the  ready  answers  of  the  pupils,  during  the  examination 
of  a  single  specimen  of  the  productions  of  nature.  In  such  circum- 
stances, instruction  takes  its  best  form,- — that  of  interesting  conversa- 
tion ;  and  time  flies  only  too  fast  for  both  parties  in  the  exercise. 
Another  sustained  effort  of  attention  may,  by  a  judicious  change  in 
the  form  of  mental  action,  be  as  easily  secured  by  permitting  the 
pupil  to  make  such  attempt  as  he  can  at  delineating,  in  detail,  the 
parts  of  the  object  which  he  has  been  contemplating;  still  another 
may  be  obtained  by  permitting  him  to  describe,  in  ufords,  and  at  full 
length,  what  he  has  observed ;  and  even  the  giant  Despair  of  "  com- 
position" may  be  Conquered  by  allowing  the  pupil  to  write  his  descrip- 
tion. 

Such  processes  prepare  the  young  student  in  due  season,  for  those 
arduous  and  unflagging  exertions  of  attention  by  which  he  ultimately 
succeeds  in  solving  lengthened  and  complicated  problems  in  mathe- 
matics, disentangling  long  and  inverted  sentences  by  tracing  the  gram- 
matical relations  of  their  parts,  and  following,  with  patient  assiduity, 
every  step  in  extended  and  abstruse  processes  of  reasoning  on  subjects 
more  purely  mental  in  their  character. 

The  teacher  who  would  merit  the  rank  of  an  educator,  and  who 
would  render  all  his  processes  of  instruction  not  merely  didactic  but 
disciplinary,  can  never  be  too  careful  to  accustom  himself  tp  survey  the 
whole  field  of  human  culture  in  its  completeness;  to  keep  ever  before 
his  own  mind  the  strict  unity  of  the  principle  of  intelligence,  the 
analogy  and  cotendency  of  its  various  modes  of  action,  and  the  identity 
of  their  results  in  the  enlarging  and  quickening  of  its  powers,  and  the 
strengthening  of  its  grasp,  on  whatever  subject  it  may  be  called  to 
fasten.  Philosophical  writers,  of  high  repute,  have,  sometimes,  in 
their  zealous  advocacy  of  the  value  of  their  special  studies,  as  instru- 
ments of  mental  discipline,  been  led  greatly  to  underrate  the  disci- 
plinary influence  of  all  intellectual  training  connected  with  the  observ- 
ation and  study  of  nature.  They  seem  to  have  overlooked  the  fact 
that  quick,  acute,  penetrating,  close,  persevering  attention  is  one  and 
the  same  priceless  attainment,  whether  exhibited  in  the  examination 
of  an  external  object  or  in  the  investigation  of  the  most  abstruse  of 
subjects  that  can  be  submitted  to  the  action  of  human  intellect. 

The  experienced  and  observing  teacher  knows  well  that  his  students 
who  excel  in  the  exercises  prescribed  in  the  departments  of  logic  and 
metaphysics  are  those  whose  faculties  have  been  most  thoroughly 
disciplined  in  the  processes  of  analysis,  comparison,  and  classification, 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  4^ 

of  induction  and  deduction,  applied  to  the  study  of  natural  objects, 
under  the  guidance  of  mathematical  and  physical  science.  The 
materials  on  which  the  mind  works  in  each  of  these  great  groups  of 
subjects  are  undoubtedly  wholly  different;  but  its  action  is  virtually 
the  same  in  both — attention  leading  to  discernment,  discernment  to 
fact  or  to  truth. 

The  student  who  is  thus  trained  in  the  true  unity  of  his  intellect- 
ual being,  issues  from  the  preparatory  sphere  of  education  well  pre- 
pared to  meet  the  exigences  of  actual  life,  whether  these  present 
themselves  in  the  form  of  intelligent  and  prompt  activity,  or  in  that 
of  rigid  investigation  and  profound  research. 

ATURAL  CONNECTION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  AND  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

o  enable  his  pupils  to  extend  the  exercise  of  attention  into  that  of 
continued  observation,  is  the  great  aim  of  the  teacher,  who  works  in- 
telligently on  the  material  of  mind,  with  a  view  to  elicit  power  of 
thought.  As  far  as  the  discipline  of  the  perceptive  faculties  extends, 
the  end  of  culture  is  to  create  an  observing  mind ;  from  which,  in  the 
beautifully  perfect  arrangements  of  the  great  Author  of  intelligence, 
spring,  in  succession,  a  reasoning  and  a  reflecting  mind.  The  latter, 
however,  can  never  be  obtained  without  due  obedience  to  the  Creator's 
law  of  succession,  in  the  development  of  intellect.  The  materials  of 
reason  and  reflection  lie,  to  a  great  extent,  though  not  exclusively,  in 
the  field  of  observation ;  and,  a  regard  to  the  law  of  natural  and 
healthy  development,  therefore,  induces  the  teacher  to  look  carefully 
to  the  first  steps  of  his  procedure  in  the  processes  of  cultivation. 
Having  used  his  best  endeavors  to  vivify  and  invigorate  the  power  of 
attention,  by  all  appropriate  means  and  appliances,  he  proceeds  to  the 
use  of  every  genial  method  of  confirming  the  tendency  of  the  mind 
to  maintain  that  faculty  in  habitual  action  ;  to  stamp  on  the  intellect, 
as  a  characteristic  trait,  an  inquisitive  and  appropriating  spirit/which 
examines  and  searches  into  all  things  within  its  sphere,  aggregates 
their  riches  to  itself,  and  ever  comes  home  laden  with  results  for  the 
exercise  of  powers  and  faculties  yet  greater  than  itself;  and,  to  which 
it  is  ordained  to  minister.)  It  is  thus  that  the  mind  becomes  the 
delighted  and  conscious  agent  in  its  own  advancement. 

//    PROCESSES    BY    WHICH    THE    HABIT  OF    OBSERVATION    IS    SECURED. 

The  frequent  solicitation  of  attention,  by  the  presentation  of  attract- 
ive objects,  would,  of  itself,  as  we  see  in  Nature's  unaided  training  of 
the  savage,  provoke  a  tendency  to  observe. and  to  inquire.  But,  the 
action  of  the  intelligent  teacher,  in  aid  of  Nature,  and  in  obedience 
to  her  dictation,  is  founded  on  a  law  of  moral  certainty,  derived  from 
the  study  of  the  laws  of  mental  action.  Understanding  and  relying 


42  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

on  the  susceptibility  of  the  mind  to  the  influence  of  the  objects  by 
which  it  is  surrounded,  and  the  perfect  adaptation  of  these  objects  to 
that  end ;  and,  aided,  no  less  effectually,  by  that  inward  thirst  for 
knowledge,  that  burning  desire  to  observe  and  understand,  which  actu- 
ates the  young  mind  itself,  the  enlightened  teacher  knows  he  has  but 
to  attract  attention  to  the  object  which  he  wishes  to  employ  as  a  ma- 
terial in  the  fabric  of  knowledge.  Attention  gained,  secures  percep- 
tion ;  if  the  object  is  properly  selected,  and  skillfully  handled. 

The  volatility  of  attention  in  the  immature  mind,  which,  if  unguarded, 
tends  to  mental  dissipation  and  superficial  observation,  the  teacher 
counteracts  by  genial  measures,  adapted  to  arrest  and  fix  this  subtle 
element  of  mental  power,  and  carry  it  successfully  forward,  from  step 
to  step  in  observation,  till  the  end  in  view  in  investigation  is  attained. 
The  successive  steps  of  the  mind's  progress,  under  the  guidance  of  a 
skillful  instructor,  in  endeavoring  to  arrive  at  the  result  of  true  per- 
ception, exact  observation,  and  complete  knowledge,  are  suggestively 
indicated  in  the  process  of  investigating  the  structure  of  any  visible 
object,  and  naturally  present  themselves  in  the  following  order:  exam- 
ination^ analysis,  inspection  j  aided  by  interrogation,  direction,  and 
information,  and  extended  successively  to  the  more  complex  processes 
/  of  comparison  and  classijication.fj^lf 

Examination,  as  a  Process  in  Intellectual  Training. — In  the 
absence  of  the  prompting  and  directing  power  of  genial  culture,  it  is 
true,  perhaps,  that  most  of  our  race  are  permitted  to  fill  the  measure 
of  their  days  without  one  definite  or  quickening  thought  of  the  objects 
by  which  they  are  surrounded  for  a  life-time.  The  peasant  boy,  who, 
of  all  hjjman  beings,  is  the  most  favorably  situated  for  the  contempla- 
tion and  intelligent  study  of  nature,  seldom  experiences  the  friendly 
aid  of  a  suggestive  question,  that  might  lead  him  to  appreciate  the 
elements  of  intellectual  wealth,  in  which  the  field  of  his  daily  labor 
abounds.  Education  has  given  him  the  ability  to  compute  his  wages, 
to  read,  or  to  sign  a  receipt;  and,  thus  to  meet  the  humble  demands 
of  his  animal  subsistence.  It  may  even  have  afforded  him  some 
formal  instruction  in  grammar  or  geography.  But,  it  has  not  even 
hinted  to  him  that,  in  "herb,  tree,  fruit,  flower,  glistering  with  dew," 
there  are  wonders  of  skill,  and  beauty,  and  power,  fitted  to  fill  his 
soul  with  delight,  and  to  exalt  him  to  a  higher  intelligence ;  that,  in 
the  bud,  as  it  opens  in  spring,  in  the  expanded  blossom  of  summer,  in 
the  tinted  leaf  of  autumn,  in  the  shell  which  he  picks  up  from  the 
sand  of  the  brook,  in  the  very  pebble  which  he  "  turns  with  his  share, 
and  treads  upon,"  there  are  offered  to  his  mind  whole  volumes  of  the 
richest  knowledge,  which  the  study  of  a  life-time  cannot  exhaust. 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  43 

An  eloquent  American  writer,  speaking  of  the  advancement  of  edu- 
cation, says :  "  The  time  may  come  when  the  teacher  will  take  his 
pupil  by  the  hand,  and  lead  him  by  the  running  streams,  and  teach 
him  all  the  principles  of  Science,  as  she  comes  from  her  Maker."  The 
teacher  is  here  rightfully  represented  as  fulfilling,  in  his  humble  sphere 
of  duty,  the  highest  offices  of  philanthropy  and  of  religion.  Such  is 
the  teacher's  noble  and  beneficent  function,  in  favoring  circumstances ; 
yet,  not  less  when,  yielding  to  the  exigencies  of  life,  he  is  confined 
within  the  walls  of  his  school-room,  but  brings  in  Nature's  apparatus 
from  without,  to  give  life,  and  meaning,  and  efficacy  to  his  instruc- 
tions, and  win  the  young  mind  to  the  earnest  and  devoted  study  of 
the  works  of  the  Creator. 

Intellectual  Effects  Resulting  from  the  Examination  of  Objecis. — 
The  zealous  teacher,  working  with  such  light  shed  upon  his  labors, 
knows  that,  in  presenting  a  product  of  Nature  to  the  eye,  he  is  pre- 
senting a  germ  of  thought  to  the  mind,  which,  under  his  skillful  man- 
agement, shall  duly  unfold,  in  leaf,  and  blossom,  and  ultimate  fruit. 
He  knows  that,  in  the  absence  of  a  guiding  suggestion,  his  young 
pupil  may  have  looked  a  thousand  times  on  that  leaf,  as  a  thing 
which  did  not  concern  him;  on  the  shell,  as  only  something  queer; 
on  the  pebble,  as  an  unintelligible  intruder,  perhaps,  on  his  personal 
comfort ;  on  the  flower,  as  something  pretty,  that  his  sisters  are  fond 
of;  on  the  fruit,  as  a  sufficiently  satisfactory  morsel  for  his  palate ;  and, 
that  thus,  in  the  great  universal  hall  of  learning,  stored  with  library 
and  apparatus,  the  orphaned  mind  may  have  sauntered  away  the  pre- 
cious hours  of  early  life,  without  having  been  induced  to  study  a  single 
lesson,  or  engage  in  a  single  exercise.  All  this  the  teacher  is  well 
aware  of;  but,  he  knows,  too,  the  hidden  life  and  power  that  lie 
wrapped  up  in  the  little  object  .with  which,  as  a  specimen  from 
Nature's  cabinet,  he  proceeds  to  magnetize  the  sentient  intellects  before 
him.  He  knows  that,  as  surely  as  these  susceptible  beings  are  brought 
near  enough  to  come  within  the  range  of  action,  they  fall  under  the 
spell  of  its  power,  are  charmed  to  rapt  attention,  and  carried  on,  in 
wondering  and  delighted  observation,  till  they  are  finally  arrested 
by  the  grateful  surprise  of  conscious  knowledge,  and  advanced 
intelligence. 

Is  it  a  plant  which  forms  the  subject  of  the  lesson  he  would  give  ? 
He  has  but,  by  a  striking  question,  to  break  the  crust  of  habituation, 
which  has  blunted  the  perception  of  his  pupils,  and  hinders  their 
mental  vision.  He  has  but  to  ask  them  to  describe  its  parts,  in  detail, 
as  he  holds  it  up  before  them,  and  he  has  gained  the  grand  prelimi- 
nary condition  of  effective  perception, — attentive  examination.  As 


44  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES 

the  description  extends  its  ramifications,  the  weed,  which  had  been  a 
thousand  times  trodden  under  foot,  without  a  thought  of  its  nature  or 
construction,  becomes  an  eloquent  expositor  of  Creative  mechanism 
and  life ;  its  parts  become  organs  and  channels  of  vitality, — a  won- 
drous laboratory  of  chemical  elements  and  action  ;  the  individual 
object  becomes  a  member  of  a  family,  each  of  whom  has  his  life  and 
his  history,  his  birth,  growth,  maturity,  and  decay ;  leaving,  as  the 
moral  of  his  story,  the  parting  suggestive  question,  riveted  in  the 
wondering  mind,  "  Am  I  not  wonderfully  made  ?  " 

One  such  result, — and  the  more  common  the  object  which  secures 
it  the  better, — one  such  result  is  sufficient  to  ensure  a  repetition  of 
itself,  in  a  thousand  other  instances.  The  ice  of  indifference  is  broken  ; 
and  the  observer  may  now  see  clearly,  through  the  transparant  water, 
the  many-formed  beautiful  pebbles  on  the  sandy  bed  of  the  stream. 
The  time  and  trouble  of  examination,  it  is  now  found,  are  amply 
repaid  in  the  conscious  pleasure  of  intelligent  observation ;  and,  they 
are  no  longer  begrudged.  The  mind  has  now  become  desirous  to 
observe,  examine,  and  explore.  It  has  already  set  out  on  a  career 
which,  were  all  educators  intelligent  agents,  would  be  ceaseless  to  all 
to  whose  advancement  it  is  their  part  to  minister. 

Example  of  a  Successful  Teacher. — A  most  striking  exemplification, 
in  this  respect,  of  successful  instruction,  was  often  exhibited  in  the 
devoted  labors  of  the  late  Josiah  Holbrook,  who,  although  the  very 
extent  of  some  of  his  plans  for  the  advancement  of  popular  education 
may  have  rendered  their  execution  difficult  for  the  endeavors  of  an 
individual,  yet  was  uniformly  successful  in  his  attempts  to  introduce 
the  study  of  natural  objects,  as  a  part  of  early  education  in  all  schools. 
Trusting  to  the  power  of  attraction  and  development  latent  within  a 
stone,  picked  up  by  the  wayside,  he  would  enter  a  school,  with  no 
other  apparatus  of  instruction  provided ;  and,  holding  up  the  familiar 
object,  would  succeed,  by  means  of  a  few  simple  but  skillfully-put 
questions,  in  creating  an  earnest  desire  in  his  young  audience  to  be 
permitted  to  look  more  closely  at  the  object.  He  would  then  hand  it 
to  them,  and  have  it  passed  from  one  to  another. 

Having  thus  secured  the  preliminary  advantage  of  earnest  attention, 
his  next  step  would  be,  by  a  few  more  brief  questions,  to  lead  his  little 
class  to  a  close  and  careful  examination  of  the  specimen  submitted  to 
their  notice ;  and,  to  their  surprise  and  delight,  to  enable  them  to  see 
that  the  bit  of  granite  in  their  hands, — although  but  one  stone  to  the 
eye,  at  first  sight, — actually  contained  portions  of  three  different  kinds 
of  rock.  He  would  then  give  his  pupils  an  unpretending  but  thor- 
oughly effective  exercise  in  analysis,  by  inducing  them  to  point  out 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  45 

distinctly  each  component  element,  apart,  and  to  describe,  at  the 
moment  of  doing  so,  its  points  of  difference  from  the  others,  by  which 
the  eye  might  recognize  and  the  mind  distinguish  it. 

Another  stage,  in  the  well-planned  lessons  of  this  true  teacher, 
would  lead  to  a  yet  closer  inspection  of  the  component  elements  in  the 
object  of  observation,  by  the  presentation  of  separate  specimens  of 
each,  in  comparison  with  the  smaller  portions  of  them  perceptible  in 
the  stone.  The  transparency  of  the  mica,  its  laminated  form,  its 
beauty  to  the  eye,  would  all  come  up  in  turn,  for  due  notice  and 
remark ;  nor  would  its  peculiar  adaptation  to  several  of  the  uses  and 
conveniences  of  life  be  overlooked.  The  quartz  element,  with  its  beau- 
tiful crystalline  aspect  and  forms,  its  value  as  a  gem,  its  wide  diffusion 
in  the  granular  condition,  its  presence  and  its  effects  in  the  composi- 
tion of  rocks  and  soils, — all  briefly  exemplified  and  enumerated, — 
would  form  a  copious  subject  of  instruction  and  delight.  The  feld- 
spar, too,  with  its  creamy  tint  and  block-like  configuration,  and  its 
valuable  uses  in  the  hands  of  the  potter  and  the  dentist,  would  come 
in  for  its  share  of  delighted  attention  and  studious  observation. 

Here  was  the  true  office  of  instruction  faithfully  exemplified.  Here 
was  genuine  mental  activity,  on  the  part  of  the  pupil ;  and,  here  were 
its  natural  effects, — vigorous,  healthy  expansion  and  development, 
together  with  the  pure,  natural,  and  salutary  pleasure  of  intellectual 
exercise, — more  dear  to  the  child  than  even  his  favorite  play.  Here, 
too,  were  effectually  secured  the  moral  influences  of  culture,  docility, 
order,  regularity,  voluntary  attention  and  application,  gratitude  to  the 
instructor  for  personal  favor  and  benefit  consciously  received,  an  earn 
est  desire  implanted  for  the  true  and  enduring  pleasures  which  spring 
from  knowledge,  and  the  first  steps  taken  in  the  life-long  pursuit  of 
science.  The  teacher,  having  put  himself  into  a  true  living  relation 
to  the  mental  constitution  of  his  pupils,  could,  without  delaying  for 
formal  calls  to  order  or  attention,  proceed,  at  once,  to  the  benign  office 
of  his  vocation,  as  the  guide  of  the  young  mind.  By  a  wise  prevent- 
ive method, — not  by  authority,  rule,  or  penalty, — he  secured  the 
devoted  attention  and  good  order  of  his  pupils,  and,  not  less,  their 
own  happiness,  their  sympathy  with  him,  at  the  moment,  and  their 
habitual  reverence  for  him,  as  the  living  source  of  knowledge. 

After  one  lesson,  such  as  has  been  described,  the  substantial  and 
durable  effect  resulting  from  it  was  usually  perceptible  in  the  fact  that, 
on  the  dismission  of  the  school,  the  juvenile  members  of  Mr.  Hoi- 
brook's  audience  would  be  found  resorting  to  whatever  place  they 
thought  likely  to  furnish  them  with  specimens  such  as  he  had  exhib|- 
ited  in  his  lesson.  This  was  almost  universally  the  case  when  the 


46  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

lesson  happened  to  be  given  in  a  rural  region,  where  objects  of  the 
kind  in  question  were  easily  obtained.  But,  not  less  zeal  for  collect- 
ing specimens  for  juvenile  cabinets,  would  sometimes  be  manifested  in 
the  more  confined  sphere  of  city  life,  an  instance  of  which  it  would 
be  difficult  for  the  writer  to  forget. 

An  eager  group  of  little  collectors  were  scrambling  for  specimens 
around  the  temporary  shed  of  the  stone-masons  occupied  in  the  erec- 
tion of  a  public  building.  They  were  busily  replenishing  their  pock- 
ets with  such  pieces  as  struck  their  fancy,  and  stopping  now  and  then 
to  compare  specimens,  or  each  to  examine  his  own  more  closely. 
Drawing  near  to  the  juvenile  company  of  geologists,  as  their  heads 
were  clubbed  together  in  earnest  inspection  of  a  specimen,  the  observer 
heard  one  exclaim,  "  Well,  I  do  not  think  it  is  the  right  kind.  For, 
you  know,  Mr.  Holbrook  said  the  way  to  spell  granite  was  not 
g-r-a-n-i-t-e,  but  '  mica,  quartz,  and  feldspar.1  Now,  there  is  not  a  bit 
of  mica  in  any  of  these  stones."  The  observer  happened  to  know  of 
Mr.  Holbrook's  visits  to  the  school  to  which  the  boys  belonged ;  and, 
as  he  saw  that  the  little  students  had  just  found  their  way  to  the 
exact  spot  in  investigation  where  Mr.  H.  would  be  glad  to  meet  them, 
so  as,  by  means  of  a  little  closer  analysis,  to  enable  them  to  detect  the 
difference  between  granite  and  "  sienite,"  he  relieved  their  anxiety  by 
telling  them  that  they  had  better  not  throw  away  the  pieces  they  had 
picked  up,  but  carry  them  to  the  school-room,  next  morning,  and  ask 
Mr.  Holbrook  to  tell  them  why  there  was  no  mica  in  their  specimens, 
and  what  those  black  specks  were.  One  of  the  little  explorers  returned 
to  his  home,  on  the  following  day,  to  tell,  with  a  face  all  radiant  with 
intelligence,  about  the  quarries  of  Syene,  in  Egypt,  the  quarries  of 
Quincy,  and  those  of  the  "  Granite  "  State,  and  even  to  go  into  some 
details,  in  which  neither  of  his  parents  was  sufficiently  versed  in 
science  to  follow  him  satisfactorily.  ' 

Analysis,  in  its  Connection  with  the  Discipline  of  the  Perceptive 
faculties. — An  eminent  writer  has  truly  said  that  a  dwarf,  behind  his 
steam-engine,  may  remove  mountains.  Analysis  is  the  correspondent 
power  of  the  intellect.  It  is  the  grand  instrument  in  all  the  opera- 
tions of  the  perceptive  faculties.  It  is  observation  working  scientifi- 
cally ;  and,  of  all  the  implements  of  science,  it  is  the  keenest  in  its 
edge,  the  truest  in  its  action,  and  the  surest  in  the  results  which  it 
attains.  It  is  the  key  to  knowledge,  in  all  departments  of  intelligence; 
and,  perfection  in  its  processes  is  the  crown  of  glory  on  the  head  of 
him  who  stands  foremost  in  the  field  of  scientific  research.  Education, 
as  the  power  which  trains  and  forms  the  mental  habits,  has  no  higher 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  47 

boon  which  it  can  confer,  as  the  result  of  years  of   practice  and 
discipline. 

Valuable,  however,  as  this  process  is,  education,  in  the  history  of 
the  past,  could  lay  but  slight  claims  to  the  merit  of  having  formed  the 
mental  habits  which  it  implies;  since  the  means  and  opportunities  of 
analytic  intellection  were  withheld  or  neglected,  to  a  very  great  extent, 
in  consequence  of  the  omission  to  provide  the  requisite  objects  and 
exercises  for  the  discipline  of  the  perceptive  faculties.  Education, 
while  it  consisted  chiefly  in  arbitrary  forms  of  exercise  on  abstract 
principles,  connected  with  formulas  in  language  and  in  number,  drawn 
from  the  sciences  of  grammar  and  arithmetic,  precluded  the  exercise 
of  perception,  by  causing  the  learner  to  assume,  instead  of  investiga- 
ting, the  primary  facts  of  language  and  of  number.  At  the  present 
day,  we  obey  the  law  of  inductive  .procedure,  and  substitute  personal 
observation  and  distinct  perception  for  wide  assumption  and  broad 
assertion.  This  is  true  of,  at  least,  the  modes  and  methods  of  all  who 
profess  to  teach  philosophically,  as  not  mere  instructors,  but  educators 
of  the  mind.  Still,  there  remains  much  to  be  done  with  reference  to 
the  early  direction  and  training  of  the  intellectual  faculties,  so  as  to 
ensure  the  selection  and  presentation  of  the  proper  materials  on  which 
the  intellect  should  be  exercised  in  the  first  stages  of  its  course  of 
discipline. 

Analysis,  as  a  process  of  observant  mind,  implies  the  presence  of 
objects  which,  by  its  solvent  power,  it  is  to  reduce  to  component  ele- 
ments ;  and,  as  the  real  object,  the  fact,  the  actual  relation,  precede, 
in  the  order  of  nature  and  development,  the  ideal  image,  the  intellec- 
tual abstraction,  the  logical  deduction,  early  education  in  its  primary 
operations,  should  conform  to  this  law  of  order  and  of  progress,  and, 
in  prescribing  its  first  forms  of  exercise  and  discipline,  should  obviously 
draw  its  materials  from  the  external  universe  of  palpable  realities,  and 
not  from  the  internal  world  of  pure  thought,  in  which  the  young 
mind  possesses  so  little  conscious  power.  Nor  is  it  well  for  the  mind 
that  the  habit  of  analytical  observation  and  study,  so  indispensable  to 
its  successful  action,  in  all  forms  of  acquisitive  exercise,  should  be  de- 
ferred to  the  later  stages  of  intellectual  culture.  Facility  in  analysis, 
acquired  by  practice  on  the  accessible  forms  and  relations  of  external 
objects,  is  easily  transferred,  by  analogy,  to  the  arithmetical  exercise 
of  resolving  complicated  numbers  into  their  simpler  constituent 
groups ;  or,  the  grammatical  one  of  reducing  a  perplexing  period  to 
its  primary  elements,  and  these,  in  turn,  to  their  component  parts. 

Progress  in  mathematical  science  and  linguistic  study,  would  be 
much  surer  and  l^ore  rapid,  if,  instead  of  being  demanded  of  the 


48  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

earlier  stages  of  mental  progressr  it  were  postponed  to  a  period  subse- 
quent to  that  of  analytical  exercise,  practised,  for  years,  on  objects 
perceptible  to  the  senses. 

Analysis,  as  the  systematic  process  of  examination,  is  one  and  the 
same  thing,  in  whatever  direction  it  is  applied  ;  its  power  as  an  instru- 
ment of  discipline,  is  as  fully  felt  in  investigating  the  structure  of  a 
plant  as  that  of  a  sentence ;  and,  the  intelligent  teacher,  while  super- 
intending such  a  process,  will  feel  the  same  weight  of  obligation  rest- 
ing on  him  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  He  will,  accordingly,  be 
watchful  over  the  manner  in  which  the  process  is  conducted,  that  it  be 
not  superficial,  or  hasty,  or  partial,  but  thorough -going,  deliberate,  and 
exhaustive,  as  far  as  it  ought  to  extend  ;  and.  that  it  be  furnished  with 
faithful  expression,  or  record,  at  every  step  of  its  progress.  It  is  thus 
only  that  the  indispensable  broad  line  of  distinction  can  be  drawn, 
which  gives  certainty  to  knowledge,  by  separating  what  has  been 
examined  from  what  has  not  been,  and  measures  what  is  known  by 
what  has  been  done. 

Inspection,  as  a  Disciplinary  Process  for  the  Perceptive  faculties. 
— When  analysis  has  faithfully  performed  its  peculiar  task,  and 
singled  out  for  observation  the  very  last  component  element  in  the 
object  of  investigation,  there  remains  yet,  to  the  attentive  teacher, 
another  stage  of  perceptive  progress  to  be  accomplished  by  his  pupil, 
under  the  suggestive  direction  of  a  mind  which  has  already  traveled 
the  path  of  knowledge.  The  searching  inspection  of  the  individual 
elements  which  compose  a  complex  whole, — an  inspection  so  minute, 
that  each  element  may  be  described  and  defined  in  its  distinctive  unity 
of  constitution  and  character,  and,  in  the  clearly  traced  relation  which 
it  bears  to  the  whole,  as  well  as  in  each  of  its  own  chief  characteris- 
tics, or  prominent  features, — becomes,  perhaps,  in  turn,  an  element  in 
some  wide-sweeping  induction,  for  purposes  of  comparison  and 
classification. 

Elementary  botany, — that  which  a  young  child  is  perfectly  compe- 
tent to  study,  and  which  requires  but  the  seeing  eye  and  the  attentive 
mind,  to  examine  and  describe  the  different  parts  of  a  plant,  or  even 
a  root,  a  stem,  a  bud,  or  a  leaf, — abounds  in  the  best  of  materials  for 
exercise  in  close  and  minute  examination  of  details.  To  renuer  this 
process  a  tendency  and  a  habit  of  his  pupil's  mind,  is  here  the  office 
of  the  educator.  Yet,  this  is  but  one  of  the  numerous  resources  of 
nature  on  which  he  may  draw  for  the  cultivation  of  the  highest  traits 
of  intellectual  skill  and  expertness,  as  attributes  of  the  young  minds, 
which  it  is  his  business  to  train  to  the  highest  pitch  of  mental  power 
to  which  he  can  raise  them. 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  49 

In  the  examination  of  a  plant,  for  example,  he  does  not  limit  the 
attention  of  his  pupils  to  the  mere  analysis  of  the  whole  into  its  parts. 
Every  part,  separately,  he  makes  an  object  of  distinct  inspection  and 
investigation,  in  every  light  in  which  observation  or  science  enables 
him  to  hold  it  up.  No  feature  of  individual  character  is  suffered  to 
escape  notice, — no  detail,  how  minute  soever  it  may  be,  in  which  it 
differs  from,  or  resembles,  a  correspondent  point  of  form  or  function, 
in  another  specimen  of  kindred  character. 

In  lessons  on  animal  life, — to  use  another  example, — the  juvenile 
student,  under  the  charge  of  the  watchful  teacher,  is  directed  to  observe 
the  fact,  which  minute  inspection  discloses,  that,  in  one  instance,  where 
he  would  naturally,  at  first  glance,  think  that  he  has  seen  two  feet  / 
he  will  actually  discover,  on  closer  inspection,  two  hands  j  that,  in 
observing  the  figure  of  the  chimpanzee,  he  has  been  contemplating 
neither  biped  nor  quadruped,  but  a  quadrumanous  (four-handed)  ani- 
mal ;  and,  that  this  distinction  is  founded  chiefly  on  the  careful  exam- 
ination of  the  member  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  call  a  toe, 
but  which  is,  in  reality,  a  thumb,  designed  to  aid  in  the  actions  of  grasp- 
ing and  climbing,  which  are  so  important  to  the  animal's  mode  of  life. 
The  clo?e  inspection  of  one  member  thus  becomes,  for  the  time,  the 
turning  point  on  which  the  young  student  depends  for  the  recognition 
of  a  grand  distinction  in  nature,  and  for  the  true  understanding  and 
proper  appreciation  of  the  scientific  term  in  which  this  distinction  is 
recorded,  i/ 

Interrogation,  as  an  Instrument  of  Intellectual  Discipline. — In  the 
language  of  general  writers  on  subjects  connected  with  the  experi- 
mental and  tentative  processes  of  science,  man  is  said  to  interrogate 
nature.  The  figure  is  a  most  suggestive  one  to  the  teacher,  with, 
reference  to  his  business  and  duties.  It  presents  man  in  his  appropri- 
ate attitude  of  an  attentive  and  docile  child  of  Nature,  inquiring  trust- 
fully of  her  concerning  the  causes  which  lie  too  deep  for  mere  intui- 
tion, but  which  her  maternal  spirit  is  ever  ready  to  reveal  to  earnest 
desire  and  faithful  endeavor.  The  human  parent  and  the  teacher 
stand,  to  the  young  mind,  in  the  same  oracular  relation,  as  expound- 
ers and  interpreters  of  the  great  volume  of  creation.  But,  how  sel- 
dom is  the  inquiring  spirit  of  childhood  encouraged  to  avail  itself  of 
its  lawful  provision  for  the  furnishing  of  that  knowledge  which  it  con- 
sciously craves,  as  the  sustenance  of  its  life  I  How  seldom  does  the 
teacher  feel  the  full  force  of  the  obligation  which  the  inquisitive  habits 
of  childhood  lay  upon  him,  to  encourage  the  spirit  of  curiosity  which 
prompts  the  many  questions  of  the  child !  How  seldom  does  he  feel 
that  his  business  is  to  incite',  and  stimulate-,  and!  prompt,  and  enliven, 

IB* 


50  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

in  every  way  possible  to  him,  this  primary  instinct,  which  impels  tLo 
mind  toward  the  goal  of  knowledge !  How  seldom  does  he  enter  into 
the  spirit  of  the  wise  suggestion  of  the  poet ;  and,  even  when  in  the 
very  act  of  feeding  the  intellectual  appetite,  so  contrive  as  "  by  giving" 
to  "  make  it  ask !" 

Book  Questions. — The  teacher  is  not  usually  so  remiss  in  regard  to 
the  importance  of  interrogation,  as  a  stimulus  to  intelligence,  so  far  as 
concerns  his  own  resort  to  that  process.  Far  from  it !  He  knows  its 
value,  as  a  pointer  or  guide-post,  to  definite  results.  Nor  are  there 
wanting  instructors  so  reliant  on  interrogatory  forms,  and  so  distrust- 
ful of  their  own  power  to  devise  them,  that  they  conduct  the  whole 
business  of  a  lesson,  following  literally  the  numerous  questions  printed 
on  the  page  of  the  text-book.  Such  questions,  it  is  true,  are  not  to 
be  despised  and  rejected  in  the  wholesale  style  in  which  they  are 
sometimes  disposed  of  by  the  young  and  sanguine  teacher,  who  has 
just  begun  to  see  their  inadequacy  to  the  purposes  and  wants  of  per- 
sonal instruction.  The  printed  question,  even  when  extended  to 
minutia3,  may  be  rendered  very  serviceable  to  the  formation  of  habits 
of  faithful  application  and  close  study,  as  well  as  accurate  recapitula- 
tion ;  if  the  young  student  is  directed  to  make  use  of  it  as  a  test,  in 
regard  to  the  exactness  of  his  preparation  for  a  personal  examination 
on  the  subject  of  his  lesson ;  if  he  is  duly  trained  not  to  regard  the 
printed  question  as  merely  the  teacher's  part  in  a  verbatim  mechani- 
cal dialogue  between  the  master  and  himself,  in  which  the  last  word 
in  the  sentence  of  the  one  speaker  forms  the  literal  "  cue  "  to  the  first 
word  in  that  of  the  other,  but,  as  a  criterion  of  his  knowledge  of  the 
subjects,  as  a  friendly  intimation  that,  if  he  can  not  furnish  an  answer 
to  the  question  before  him,  he  is  so  far  deficient  in  his  preparation  to 
give  intelligently  an  account  of  the  part  of  the  subject  to  which  the 
question  refers. 

Children's  Questions, — But,  it  would  be  more  to  the  purpose  of 
the  young  teacher's  business,  if, — instead  of  the  printed  aid  offered  to 
him  in  what  should  be  his  own  part  of  a  lesson,  and  which,  if  he 
respects  his  own  mind,  he  will  draw  only  from  his  own  resources, 
according  to  the  needs  of  the  pupil, — the  page  of  the  text-book 
abounded,  rather,  in  the  questions  which  children  would  like  to  ask, 
for  their  personal  information.  The  judicious  instructor  will  always 
make  free  use  of  interrogation,  as  a  means  of  ascertaining  or  aiding 
the  degree  of  his  pupil's  intelligence.  But,  he  will  not  overlook  the 
fact  that  this  process,  like  that  of  the  printer,  in  taking  his  proof 
impression,  is  to  certify  a  result, — not  to  create  it.  The  questions 
which  the  child  is  permitted  or  encouraged  to  put  to  his  teacher,  are, 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  51 

often,  the  sole  means  by  which  the  former  is  enabled  to  "  set  up  *J 
accurately  in  his  mind  the  facts  of  the  lesson  required.  The  number 
and  the  closeness  of  these  questions  become,  further,  the  expression 
and  evidence  of  the  interest  which  the  pupil  takes  in  the  lesson.  To 
the  teacher  who  possesses  the  patient  and  sympathizing  spirit  of  his 
office,  these  questionings  come  gratefully  to  his  ear,  even  when  they 
betray  the  "  blank  misgivings  of  a  creature  wandering  in  worlds  not  * 
realized."  It  is  then  that  he  is  most  impressively  reminded  of  the 
true  nature  of  his  work,  as  an  intellectual  guide  and  conductor.  He 
is  ever  careful,  therefore,  to  provoke,  rather  than  repress,  interrogation  ; 
and,  even  so  to  frame  his  own  questions  that  they  shall  serve  to  call 
forth  fresh  inquiries  from  his  pupils. 

The  appropriate  discipline  of  the  perceptive  faculties,  depending, 
as  it  does,  on  the  frequent  presentation  of  objects  of  sense,  with  a 
view  to  win  attention,  and  secure  exact  observation,  implies  that  the 
teacher  resorts,  on  all  occasions,  to  close  questioning,  as  the  suggestive 
process  by  which  the  pupil  is  induced  to  use  his  own  perceptive  power, 
to  rely  on  the  fidelity  of  his  own  observation,  and  thus  to  acquire  a 
knowledge  which  is  substantial  and  thorough -going.  But,  it  is  not 
less  true  that,  in  proportion  to  the  pupil's  interest  in  the  efforts  which 
he  makes,  and  the  progressive  steps  which  he  takes  in  every  process, 
his  very  attainments  will  be  suggesting  and  prompting  further  inqui- 
ries, for  his  future  guidance.  The  spirit  and  intelligence,  as  well  as 
the  pleasure,  therefore,  with  which  he  proceeds. in  his  work,  will 
depend,  to  a  great  extent,  on  the  consciousness  that  he  is  not  working 
in  the  dark. 

Mode  of  Answering  Questions.— The  answer  to  the  pupil's  questions, 
however,  the  true  teacher  is  well  aware,  is  not  always  to  come  from 
the  lips  of  the  instructor.  It  is  often  left  intentionally  to  be  the  fruit 
of  the  learner's  further  efforts  and  closer  examination.  To  withhold 
an  answer  to  the  most  eager  question,  is  sometimes  a  truer  kindness 
than  to  give  it.  The  ripe  and  perfect  fruit  of  knowledge  must  some- 
times, like  that  of  the  tree,  be  patiently  waited  for,  and  wrought  for. 

Leading  Questions. — The  wise  teacher,  however,  will  know  as  well 
when  to  put  the  skillful  leading  question,  which  does  not  supersede, 
but  rather  calls  forth  the  activity  of  the  pupil's  mind.  The  leading 
question,  though  unlawful  at  the  bar,  is,  under  the  management  of 
the  prudent  teacher,  the  very  turning  point,  in  some  cases,  which 
decides  whether  he  is  "  apt  to  teach,"  as  an  intelligent  guide  to  tht> 
results  of  actual  knowledge  and  true  discipline. 

Direction  and  Information,  as  Didactic  Processes  Connected  with 
the  Exercise  and  Discipline  of  the  Perceptive  Faculties. — The  answers 


52  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

given  by  a  judicious  teacher  to  the  questions  of  his  pupils  will  often 
consist  in  references  to  the  sources  of  information,  rather  than  in 
direct  replies.  In  the  study  of  natural  objects,  it  is  peculiarly  import- 
ant that  the  pupil  should  see,  and  think,  and  judge,  and  discover,  for 
himself.  To  such  training  in  self-reliance  and  self-help,  the  exercise 
of  the  perceptive  faculties  on  the  details  of  form  in  animal,  plant,  and 
mineral,  is  preeminently  adapted.  The  embarrassing  complexity  and 
intricacy,  and  the  baffling  abstruseness,  and  the  perplexing  obscurity, 
which  sometimes  characterize  other  subjects  of  investigation,  and 
which  call  so  loudly  for  the  teacher's  frequent  aid  to  his  pupil,  do  not 
exist  here.  The  simplicity  and  the  beauty  of  nature's  products,  invite 
and  attract  attention ;  and,  every  successive  stage  of  examination 
leads  unconsciously  to  another.  The  teacher  has  but  to  indicate  and 
to  prompt,  and  thus  leave  the  mind  the  rich  satisfaction  of  achieving 
its  own  progress.  He  is  not  tempted  to  fall  into  the  besetting  sin  of 
instruction, — that  of  anticipating,  and  assuming,  and  asserting,  and  so 
quenching  the  mind's  healthful  thirst  by  the  lukewarm  distillations  of 
precept  and  rule,  instead  of  leaving  it  to  refresh  itself  by  drinking  at 
the  cool,  vivifying  fountain-head  of  original  observation. 

An  eminent  naturalist  once  gave  a  very  impressive  lesson  in  the  art 
of  teaching  to  one  who  is  himself,  professionally,  an  instructor.  The 
question  proposed  to  the  savant  was,  "How  may  we  distinguish 
snakes  which  are  venomous  from  those  which  are  not  ? "  "  Come  into 
my  study,"  was  the  answer,  "  and  I  will  place  before  you  some  of 
each  kind ;  and,  then,  by  examining,  you  can  see  for  yourself."  It  is 
thus  the  true  teacher  proceeds  with  his  pupils:  it  is  thus  he  gives 
certainty  to  knowledge,  and  clearness  and  vigor  to  the  mental  faculties. 

As  a  guide  and  director  of  the  mind,  the  intelligent  instructor 
points  his  pupils  to  the  sources  from  which  he  himself  obtained  inform- 
ation, and  thus  admits  them  to  the  honor  of  partnership  with  him  in 
investigation  and  accumulation.  Teacher  and  student  thus  become 
allied  by  friendly  participation  in  the  same  pursuits ;  and,  a  high, 
though  unostentatious,  moral  effect  is  blended  with  the  cultivation  and 
enjoyment  of  intellect. 

The  teacher,  however,  who  thus  wisely  throws  his  pupils,  as  far  as 
practicable  on  their  own  resources,  does  not  thereby  preclude  the 
ample  furnishing  of  all  needed  information,  which  intelligent  apprecia- 
tion and  successful  application  may  require.  He  will,  on  the  contrary, 
take  pleasure  in  disclosing  facts,  in  tracing  analogies,  and  furnishing 
explanations,  when  these  serve  to  give  additional  value  and  attraction 
to  the  theme  of  his  instructions.  He  will  thus  contrive,  at  once,  to 
satisfy  and  to  stimulate  the  mind's  natural  craving  for  knowledge,  and 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  53 

make  every  step  of  progress  the  foothold  and  the  impulse  to  yet 
another.  He  will  still  be  careful,  however,  even  when  imparting  direct 
information,  to  confine  it  within  those  limits  which  shall  leave  a  wide 
and  inviting  field  for  the  pupil's  own  investigations,  and  secure  his 
personal  interest  in  future  explorations,  which  may  subserve  the  im- 
portant purposes  of  acquisition,  as  connected  with  attainments  in  the 
various  departments  of  education,  or  with  those  advances  in  science 
which  may  form  a  large  part  of  his  own  conscious  happiness,  and  con- 
tribute, ultimately,  to  the  general  diffusion  of  knowledge. 

Comparison,  as  a  Disciplinary  Exercise  of  the  Perceptive  Facul- 
ties.— The  unity  of  the  intellect,  as  a  principle  in  the  human 
constitution,  forbids  any  attempt  at  literal  or  exhaustive  analysis, 
in  the  study  of  its  diversified  character  and  modes  of  action.  In  edu- 
cational relations,  more  particularly,  all  attempts  at  the  analytic  observ- 
ation of  mental  phenomena,  for  purposes  of  intelligent  and  healthful 
culture,  must  ever  be  regarded  as  merely  analogical  presentations  and 
figurative  expositions.  The  successive  stages  of  mental  development 
and  discipline,  in  like  manner,  are  incapable  of  being  cut  apart  and 
separated  by  any  dividing  line  of  demarcation.  On  the  contrary,  they 
naturally  blend  into  one  another,  with  a  closeness  of  connection,  and 
a  delicacy  of  shading,  which  does  not  admit  of  precise  distinctions,  or 
marked  discriminations. 

When  we  group,  therefore,  the  various  modes  in  which  intellect 
manifests  itself  in  action,  and  designate  one  of  these  groups  by  the 
term  "  perceptive,"  and  another  by  the  term  "  reflective,"  we  recognize 
a  distinction,  with  regard  to  which,  even  a  superficial  observer  of  the 
mind's  activity,  would  not  venture  to  say  that  it  is  not  founded  on  an 
actual  difference.  Still,  we  should  find  it  extremely  difficult  to  lay 
down  a  precise  line  of  demarcation,  and  say  with  certainty,  in  every 
instance,  here  terminates  the  perceptive,  and  here  commences  the  re- 
flective action  of  intellect.  Thus,  in  assigning  its  place  to  the  master 
faculty  of  intelligence,  we  should  feel  no  hesitation  in  ranking  reason 
among  the  reflective  faculties.  But,  when  this  noble  power  descends, 
as  has  been  so  happily  expressed,  to  the  humble  office  of  "judging 
according  to  sense,"  it  necessarily  partakes  of  the  character  of  the 
class  of  faculties  with  which  it  mingles  in  action.  It  constitutes,  thus, 
an  element  and  a  condition  in  perception  itself;  as  is  verified  by  the 
consequences  of  its  absence,  in  the  intellectual  action  of  the  insane 
person,  who  distinctly  enough  perceives  the  form  of  his  friend,  but,  in 
the  inexplicable  aberration  of  reason,  salutes  him  as  a  foreign  ambas- 
sador, come  to  do  him  the  honor  of  a  visit,  in  consideration  of  his  world- 
renowned  skill  in  disentangling  complicated  questions  in  state  policy. 


54  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

Comparison  combines,  usually,  an  act  of  volition  with  the  process 
of  observation,  directed  to  two  or  more  objects,  for  the  purpose  of 
recognizing  their  unity  or  diversity  of  character ;  and,  hence,  is  prop- 
erly regarded  as  but  the  preliminary  or  introductory  step  to  the  act 
of  judgment,  which  pronounces  the  case  one  of  analogy  or  anomaly. 
It  is  not  unusual,  therefore,  to  class  comparison  as  purely  an  act  of 
judgment,  or  decisive  reason ;  and,  by  its  office,  a  reflective  faculty. 
As  a  process  of  intellection,  however,  it  obviously  commences  with  the 
perceptive  act  of  attentive  observation;  and,  as  a  disciplinary  and 
developing  operation  in  mental  culture,  it  falls  under  the  special  care 
of  the  educator,  as  an  exercise  in  the  early  training  and  forming  of 
intellectual  habit. 

Proper  Rank  of  Comparison,  as  an  Intellectual  Process. — Regarded 
in  connection  with  the  study  of  natural  objects,  the  act  of  comparison, 
is  an  exercise  of  the  perceptive  faculties,  which,  in  the  order  of  intel- 
ligence, is  the  immediate^  sequel  to  the  processes  of  examination, 
analysis,  and  inspection.  These,  indeed,  are  but  the  legitimate  pre- 
paratory stages  for  its  wider  mode  of  action,  and  higher  offices  in  the 
sphere  of  intelligence.  Yet,  in  its  turn,  it  is  but  the  humble  minis- 
tration of  intellect  to  the  yet  higher  offices  of  classification,  under  the 
guidance  of  the  master  function  of  induction,  which  presides  over  all 
the  varied  forms  of  intellectual  activity,  connected  with  the  observa- 
tion and  study  of  nature. 

Intellectual  Effects  of  the  Discipline  Resulting  from  the  Exercise 
of  Comparison. — Comparison,  as  a  process  of  intelligence,  commenced 
under  the  watchful  eye  of  the  teacher,  on  the  objects  of  perception, — 
the  only  sure  and  firm  ground  of  early  mental  development, — gives  a 
certainty  and  a  skill  to  the  perceptive  action  of  the  mind,  which  tell, 
with  sure  effect,  on  all  analogous  operations  of  a  more  purely  intellec- 
tual or  even  an  abstract  character,  in  later  stages  of  education.  The 
influence  of  the  habit  of  careful  and  exact  comparison,  extends,  with 
full  effect,  to  the  highest  efforts  of  mature  mind,  in  the  most  compli- 
cated and  intricate  relations  of  thought,  in  mathematics,  in  logic,  and 
in  language.  Comparison,  as  the  first  step  in  the  higher  progress  of 
the  mind,  when  making  its  transition  from  the  study  of  single  objects 
to  that  of  numbers,  and  grouping  them,  by  their  analogies,  in  classes, 
brings  the  intellect  under  the  dominion  of  order,  introduces  it  to  the 
discipline  of  method,  and  ultimately  rewards  it  by  the  recognition  of 
law.  Principle  and  rule  then  take  charge  of  the  intelligent  mind ; 
and,  as  u  strong  siding  champions,"  beat  down  every  barrier  to  its 
progress  toward  consummate  knowledge. 

Natural  Objects  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  purposes  of  Comparison, 
as  a  Disciplinary  Exercise. — As  means  of  discipline  for  the  perceptive 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES.  55 

« 

faculties,  in  various  modes  of  comparison,  the  materials  for  practice, 
furnished  in  the  different  departments  of  nature,  are  peculiarly  adapted 
to  the  great  ends  of  education.  Their  mutual  resemblances  and  con- 
trasts, the  prominent  features  of  their  correspondent  forms,  seem  to 
solicit  comparison  and  classification,  as  destined  results  of  man's  men- 
tal adaptation  to  the  scene  in  which  he  moves,  and  which  so  abounds 
in  objects  of  attractive  interest, — the  germs  of  intelligence,  enveloped 
in  consummate  beauty,  that  they  may  lead  to  the  conscious  delights 
of  knowledge. 

By  the  introductory  discipline  resulting  from  the  humble  exercise 
of  carefully  comparing  objects  and  their  characteristic  parts,  the  young 
mind  receives  its  preparation  for  the  scientific  intelligence  and  the 
conscious  pleasure  with  which  it  subsequently  enters  on  the  wide 
range  of  action  afforded  by  the  inviting  analogies  revealed  in  the 
study  of  comparative  physiology  and  anatomy,  and  in  all  investiga- 
tions to  which  science  conducts,  wherever  exact  classification  and  con- 
summate knowledge  are  dependent  on  attentive  and  faithful  compari- 
son,— a  condition  equally  indispensable,  whether  in  collating  the 
vestiges  of  past  eras  in  the  physical  history  of  our  globe,  or  those  of 
language  and  of  intellect,  as  revealed  in  the  investigations  of  philology. 

Classification,  as  an  Exercise  for  the  Discipline  of  the  Perceptive 
Faculties. — This  form  of  intellectual  action, — which,  in  its  various 
aspects,  may  be  said  to  constitute  and  to  consummate  human  know- 
ledge, in  whatever  department  we  contemplate, — is  the  immediate 
sequel  of  the  preceding  act  of  mind,  in  collating  the  objects  of  obser- 
vation, or  their  peculiar  features  and  characteristics.  The  resemblances 
which  comparison  recognizes  in  objects,  become  the  leading  titles  and 
significant  designations  of  groups  and  classes.  Intellect  is  thus  freed 
from  the  burden  of  the  endless  and  unsatisfactory  task  of  wandering 
from  object  to  object,  in  detail,  without  any  conscious  thread  of  con- 
nection or  guidance,  and  without  any  suggestion  of  a  definite  end  in 
view,  in  its  wearisome  mode  of  action.  By  the  aid  of  classification, 
the  chaos  of  disconnected  individualities  is  converted  into  an  orderly 
creation,  where  everything,  as  of  old,  is  seen  to  exist  "  after  his  kind." 
Knowledge  thus  becomes  a  series  of  aggregated  accumulations, 
arranged  and  labelled  to  the  intellectual  eye ;  and,  investigation  is 
rendered  a  rational  and  inviting  pursuit, — directed  by  definite  aims, 
and  leading  to  satisfactory  results. 

Benefits  of  Classification,  as  an  Intellectual  Exercise. — By  the 
process  of  classification,  man  is  enabled  to  trace  the  successive  footsteps 
of  the  Creator  in  the  outward  world,  to  recognize  the  grand  law  of 
universal  order,  and  yield  obedience  to  its  dictates  in  his  modes  of 


56  EDUCATION  OF  THE  PERCEPTIVE  FACULTIES. 

mental  action.  The  student  of  nature,  pursuing  his  investigations  in 
this  spirit,  is  prepared,  by  successive  illustrations  of  fact,  to  amplify 
his  classifications  into  those  wide  inductions  which  are  the  glory  of 
science,  and  which  aid  the  intellect  in  accomplishing  the  vast  general- 
izations for  which  its  powers  of  comprehension  and  its  ceaseless  aspira- 
tions seem  equally  adapted. 

The  exercise  of  classification  tends  to  create  in  the  young  mind  the 
love  of  order  and  method.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  strictly  logical  discipline, 
resulting  in  the  highest  mental  benefits,  and  preparing  the  heart  for 
the  influence  of  the  most  exalted  moral  principle.  It  belongs,  how- 
ever, as  a  process  of  mental  culture,  to  a  very  early  stage  of  intel- 
lectual progress,  and  begins  appropriately  with  the  first  conscious 
steps  of  advancement  in  the  observation  and  study  of  nature.  The 
child,  in  Nature's  great  school,  finds  himself  placed  in  a  vast  cabinet 
of  specimens,  which  he  takes  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  examining,  and 
from  which,  even  when  little  aided  by  formal  education,  he  draws, 
with  delight,  stores  of  personal  knowledge,  and  the  pure  pleasure  of 
the  conscious  activity  which  his  spirit  craves. 

The  objects  of  nature,  as  the  results  of  a  designing  Mind,  seem 
peculiarly  adapted  to  the  end  of  drawing  forth  the  action  of  intellect 
and  building  up  intellectual  character  in  th0  human  being.  In  no 
respect  is  this  more  true  than  with  reference  to  the  facilities  furnished 
in  the  three  great  kingdoms  of  nature,  for  the  purely  intellectual  pro- 
cesses of  arranging  and  classifying  the  objects  of  observation*  The 
young  mind  here  finds  itself  placed  in  a  sphere  of  order,  in  which 
every  thing  is  arranged  for  the  correspondent  action  of  thought ;  in 
which  every  object  invites  to  observation,  and  every  group  solicits  a 
recognition  of  the  principle  of  classification. 

Early  Training  in  Classification. — Furnished  with  such  an  appa- 
ratus for  the  purposes  of  instruction,  the  teacher  has  but  to  point  sug- 
gestively to  the  successive  classes  of  objects  most  easily  accessible  to 
the  young  learner  in  the  great  classified  receptacles  of  earth,  air,  and 
water.  He  has  but  to  encourage  his  pupil  to  collect,  compare,  and 
classify  the  various  forms  of  mineral,  plant,  and  animal,  which  lie 
within  the  range  of  his  daily  walks ;  or,  even  to  deposit,  in  any  con- 
venient and  suitable  receptacle,  groups  of  leaves  of  similar  form,  and 
to  define  the  shape  or  the  feature  which,  in  his  distribution  of  them, 
is  made  the  ground  of  classification.  The  learner  thus  obtains  a 
measure  and  a  record  of  his  progress  in  knowledge ;  and,  the  know- 
ledge which  he  acquires,  possesses  a  true  and  substantial  character, 
which,  in  turn,  affects  that  of  his  mind,  giving  it  a  taste  for  solid 
acquirements  and  genuine  pleasures. 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 


INTRODUCTORY  OBSERVATIONS. — The  classification  of  the  mental 
faculties  under  the  designations  of  "perceptive,"  "expressive,"  and 
"reflective,"  was  adopted  in  the  preceding  lecture  of  this  series,  as  a 
convenient  one  for  a  survey  of  the  human  mind,  with  reference  to  the 
purposes  of  education.  This  classification,  it  was  mentioned,  could 
not  be  regarded  as  founded  on  lines  of  distinction  which  could  be 
assumed  as  rigorously  or  literally  exact ;  since  its  terms  are  properly 
but  so  many  names  for  various  states,  acts,  or  operations  of  the  mind, — 
itself  one  and  the  same  in  all. 

Imperfect  as  such  a  classification  must  necessarily  be,  however,  it 
enables  us,  by  its  distinctions,  to  trace  more  clearly  and  definitely  the 
forms  of  mental  action,  and  the  power  which  the  mind  possesses  of 
exerting  itself  in  different  modes  ;  and  it  affords  to  the  educator,  when 
contemplating  the  intellectual  capabilities  Of  man  with  reference  to 
the  processes  and  efllcts  of  culture,  the  advantages  of  analysis  and 
systematic  examination,  as  aids  to  the  prosecution  of  his  inquiries. 

Following  the  order  of  nature  and  of  fact,  when  we  trace  the  suc- 
cession of  action  in  the  exercise  of  man's  intellectual  powers,  as  these 
are  designated  in  the  classification  which  we  have  adopted,  we  observe 
that,  in  the  mature  and  deliberate  use  of  the  mental  faculties,  the 
habitual  and  normal  succession  is,  (1.)  Observation,  (2.)  Reflection, 
(3.)  Expression.  In  the  immature  and  susceptible  condition  of 
childhood  and  youth,  however,  the  spontaneous  activity  and  develop- 
ment of  the  communicative  tendencies  of  the  mind  cause  the  action 
of  the  expressive  faculties  to  precede  that  of  the  reflective ;  and  to 
this  law  the  order  of  education  will  properly  correspond. 

The,  perfect  action  and  discipline  of  the  power  of  expression,  re- 
quire, no  doubt,  all  the  aid  derived  from  the  .maturity  of  reason  and  re- 
flection, and,  consequently,  an  advanced  stage  of  intellectual  culture. 
But,  in  the  history  of  man's  mental  progress,  under  the  guidance  of 
natural  laws,  the  educator  perceives  and  recognizes  in  the  young 
mind,  an  early  necessity  of  utterance,  or  of  expression  in  some  form, 
as  one  of  the  divinely  implanted  instincts  by  which  it  is  actuated,  and 


58  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE   FACULTIES. 

which  therefore  becomes  an  indication  to  be  obeyed  in  the  plan  and 
progress  of  culture. 

The  phenomena  of  the  external  world  irresistibly  impel  the  child 
to  utter  the  emotions  which  they  excite  ;  and  the  judicious  educator 
will  always  encourage  the  young  observer  to  record  them,  long  before 
the  era  of  experience  in  which  they  become  subjects  of  reflective 
thought  or  profound  cogitation.  To  give  consistency  and  effect, 
however,  to  the  forms  of  expression, — whether  for  purposes  of  record 
or  of  discipline, — a  certain  degree  of  progress  must  have  been  attained 
in  the  exercise  and  development  not  only  of  the  perceptive,  but  also 
of  the  reflective  faculties ; — a  result  inseparable,  indeed, — as  was 
mentioned  in  the  preceding  lecture, — from  the  right  direction  of  the 
perceptive  powers  themselves.  In  this  and  in  every  other  attempt  to 
trace  the  order  of  mental  development,  we  are  always  brought  back 
to  the  grand  primal  truth  that  the  mind  is  properly  one,  in  all  its 
action  ;  we  are  reminded  that  this  great  fact  is  the  basis  of  all  true 
culture,  and  that  the  different  intellectual  faculties,  as  we  term  them, 
are  but  the  varied  phases  or  modes  of  action  of  the  same  subtle 
power. 

As  an  introduction,  accordingly,  to  the  discussion  of  the  principles 
which  regulate  the  cultivation  of  the  expressive  faculties,  as  a  depart- 
ment of  intellectual  education,  our  last  lecture  followed,  to  some 
extent,  the  necessary  connection  existing  between  the  discipline  of  the 
perceptive  faculties  and  the  primary  action  of  the  reflective*  With 
this  preliminary  preparation,  we  will  now  proceed,  on  the  plan  indi- 
cated in  the  first  lecture  of  this  series,  to  the  study  of  the  various 
forms  of  mental  action  which,  in  the  figurative  language  unavoidable 
in  all  intellectual  analysis  and  classification,  may  be  termed  the 
expressive  faculties.  " 

The  plan  proposed  embraced,  it  will  be  recollected,  the  following 
prominent  features:- — (1.)  an  enumeration  of  each  group  of  faculties, 
by  its  modes,  or  forms,  of  action;  (2.)  the  actuating  principle,  or 
impelling  force,  of  each  group ;  (3.)  the  tendency,  or  habit,  of  action 
in  each;  (4.)  the  result,  or  issue,  of  such  action  ;  (5.)  the  educational 
processes,  forms  of  exercise,  or  modes  of  culture,  suggested  by  the 
four  preceding  considerations. 

Following  the  order  here  mentioned,  we  commence  with  the 
(I.)     ENUMERATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

These-may  be  grouped  under  the  following  designations  : — Emotion, 
Imagination,  Fancy,  Imitation,  Personation,  Representation,  Lan- 
guage, Taste. 

Explanatory  Remark. — To  ascertain,  with  precision,  what  powers 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE   EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  59 

or  attributes  of  the  human  being  should  be  regarded  as  properly 
comprehended  under  the  above  denomination,  the  educator  would  do 
well,  here  as  elsewhere,  to  advert  to  the  primitive  signification  of  the 
term  which  is  employed  to  designate  the  class  of  faculties  to  which 
it  is  applied.  At  every  step  of  his  progress  in  the  study  of  man  as  a 
being  capable  of  systematic  development,  the  teacher  finds  a  guiding 
light  perpetually  emanating  from  the  primary  sense  of  the  terms 
which  constitute  the  nomenclature  of  intellectual  philosophy,  in  its 
nalysis  of  the  human  faculties.  These  terms  are  often  highly  figu- 
rative, and  hence  peculiarly  suggestive  with  reference  whether  to  dis- 
tinctness of  classification,  or  to  purposes  of  culture  and  development. 
In  no  case  does  this  remark  apply  more  forcibly  than  in  the  present. 
The  term  "expression,"  (pressing  out,)  implies,  in  the  first  instance, 
the  existence  of  something  within,  which,  under  the  action  of  a  force, 
working  whether  from  within  or  from  without,  is  pressed  out,  and 
thus  rendered  external,  palpable,  or  perceptible. 

Referring  this  term  to  the  phenomena  of  human  experience,  we 
derive,  from  its  prim'ary  and  figurative  sense,  the  inference,  or  impli- 
cation, that  man  is  endued  with  the  power  of  giving  an  external  man- 
ifestation to  his  internal  conditions  of  thought  or  feeling.  The  form 
of  this  manifestation  may  be  that  of  attitudes  and  actions  of  the  body, 
changes  in  the  aspect  of  the  countenance,  effects  on  the  tones  of  the 
voice,  or  efforts  in  the  organs  of  articulation,  and  modifications  of  the 
accents  of  speech ;  it  may  appear  in  imitative  acts,  in  suggestive 
graphic  delineations,  or  in  intelligible  written  characters.  But  in  all 
cases,  it  is  the  representative  expression  (pressing  out,)  of  what  has 
been  impressed,  or  is  present,  within. — The  inward  working  may  be 
that  of  a  feeling,  an  affection,  an  emotion,  or  a  passion  :  it  may  be 
that  of  an  impressive  idea,  or  of  a  thought,  an  opinion,  or  a  senti- 
ment But  the  result  is  invariably  an  outward  effect,  audible  or  visible. 

Whatever  power  or  faculty,  therefore,  has  an  agency  in  the  process 
of  thus  giving  an  external  manifestation  to  an  internal  mental  condi- 
tion, will  be  appropriately  comprehended  under  the  designation 
"  expressive  ;''  and  the  classification  will  be  exhaustive  and  complete, 
if  it  include  all  those  mental  states,  acts,  or  operations  which  give 
form  to  thought  or  feeling.  The  preceding  enumeration  of  the  ex- 
pressive faculties,  however,  is  intended  to  present  only  those  which 
are  prominently  active  in  the  ordinary  conditions  of  humanity,  and 
which  are  the  principal  subjects  of  disciplinary  training,  in  the  pro- 
cesses of  education. 

1.  EMOTION:  its  Offices  in  Expression. — Emotion  is  the  natural 
language  of  that  sensibility  which  tends  to  render  man  conscious  of 


60  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

himself,  which  serves  to  unite  him,  by  a  law  of  sympathy,  with  othei 
beings  as  well  as  with  those  of  his  own  race,  and  which,  as  a  stim- 
ulus to  his  power  of  will,  impels  him  to  the  various  forms  of  salutary 
arid  pleasurable,  or  injurious  and  destructive  action.  Without  this 
power,  ("emotion," — moviny  outward,)  man  might,  indeed,  possess 
the  profoundest  capacity  of  feeling,  the  utmost  depth  of  thought,  the 
grandest  or  the  most  beautiful  forms  of  imagination.  His  whole 
inner  world  might  be  consciously  a  scene  of  ideal  glory.  But,  to  his 
fellow  man,  he  would  be  mute  and  unintelligible.  Self-contained  arid 
solitary,  the  individual  would  be  as  destitute  of  sympathy  as  of 
expression,  and  live  unappreciated  and  iminterpreted,  because  incom- 
municative and  unintelligible./ 

Emotion,  therefore,  we  find  is  not  left  wholly  at  the  discretion  or 
the  control  of  man,  as  a  purely  voluntary  power.  Its  tirst  and  all  its 
strongest  manifestations  are  spontaneous  and  involuntary.  It  is  the 
natural  and  irrepressible  language  of  that  wondrous  capacity  of 
pleasure  and  pain  with  which  the  human  being  is  invested,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  susceptive  sensibility  with  which  his  Creator  has  seen 
fit  to  enliven  and  to  protect  his  nature. 

Emotion,  as  the  natural  expression  of  sympathy,  renders  feeling 
legible  and  audible,  and  thus  enables  man  instinctively  to  utter  or  to 
interpret  the  language  of  the  heart ;  as  an  intimation  of  the  will,  it 
enables  him  to  read  the  disposition  and  intentions,  friendly  or  hostile, 
of  his  fellow  beings.  It  is  an  early  instrument  of  power  to  the  help- 
lessness or  the  sufferings  of  infancy,  while  it  proclaims  the  presence 
of  pain,  and  brings  to  the  little  patient  the  ready  sympathy  arid  reme- 
dial aid  of  the  mother.  It  expresses  and  attracts  the  sympathetic 
//affections  of  childhood  and  youth.  (It  gives  eloquence  to  the  speech 
of  man,  warmth  to  the  cordial  welcome  of  friendship,  or  fire  to  the 
hostility  of  hatred.  It  melts  in  pity  and  compassion  for  suffering;  it 
glows  with  indignation  at  oppression  and  wrong;  it  bends  in  humility 
and  adoration  before  Infinite  majesty,  and  in  reverence  to  human 
worth  ;  or  it  looks  haughtily  down  on  the  lowly,  spurns  the  petitioner 
for  mercy,  and  tramples  on  the  weak  and  the  unresisting.  Its  power 
for  good  or  evil  is  unspeakable  in  all  that  involves  the  moral  or  the 
intellectual  character  of  human  utterance} 

The  Forms  cf  Emotion. — These  are  as  various  as  the  mental  rela- 
tions of  man.  It  is  Love,  in  the  instincts  of  affection  ;  Wonder,  in 
those  of  the  intellect;  Awe,  in  those  of  the  spirit ;  Admiration,  in 
those  of  sentiment  ;  Joy  and  Grief,  to  the  heart ;  Hatred  and  Re- 
venge, in  the  malignant  passions ;  Ardor  and  Enthusiasm,  in  the  aspi- 
rations of  the  soul ;  Courage  and  Exultation,  in  conflict ;  Fear  and 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  Ql 

Terror,  in  danger  ;  Embarrassment,  Confusion,  and  Shame,  in  failure 
or  defeat ;  Anguish,  in  pain  ;  Contrition  or  Remorse,  in  conscious 
guilt ;  Agony  and  Despair,  in  utter  ruin;  Serenity,  Tranquillity,  and 
Peace,  in  conscious  rectitude ;  Calmness  and  Composure,  in  self- 
control  ;  Sorrow  and  Gladness,  in  sympathy  ;  Laughter,  in  mirth  ; 
Caricature,  in  humor  ;  Gloom,  in  melancholy. 

Effects  of  Emotion. — Its  aspects  and  its  traits  are  as  numerous  as 
the  ever-changing  moods  of  the  "  many-sided  mind  ;"  and  its  power 
of  expression  ranges  through  all  degrees  of  force,  from  the  gentle 
half-whisper  of  confiding  love,  or  the  accents  of  a  mother's  tender- 
ness, to  the  scream  of  madness  and  the  burst  of  rage.  It  moves  to 
deeds  of  gentleness  and  mercy,  as  consciously  pleasing  acts  dictated 
by  the  principle  of  duty  ;  and  it  prompts  to  the  perpetration  of  crimes 
at  the  thought  of  which  humanity  shudders.  In  all  circumstances 
it  becomes  an  expressive  language  of  indescribable  power, — a  power 
for  the  exercise  of  which  man  is  laid  under  responsibleness  the  most 
appalling.  Its  genial  effects  carry  man  beyond  the  limits  of  his 
nature,  and  enable. him  to  approximate  to  the  benignity  of  an  angel ; 
and  its  malignant  workings  invest  him  with  the  character  of  a  fiend. 

Emotion,  the  Inspiration  of  Language. — Emotion,  as  the  natural, 
involuntary,  or  irrepressible  manifestation  of  feeling,  is,  in  itself,  the 
primary  form  as  well  as  cause  of  expression.  The  writhings  and  the 
outcries  of  pain,  the  tears  and  the  wailings  of  sorrow,  the  smiles  and 
the  sweet  tones  of  pleasure,  the  leaping  and  the  laughter  of  exuberant 
joy,  the  exultant  attitudes  and  shouts  of  triumph,  the  frown,  the 
harsh  tone,  and  the  blow  of  anger,  are  all  a  universally  intelligible 
language.  But  emotion  is  also  the  power  which  gives  life,  and  force, 
and  effect  to  voluntary  and  deliberate  utterance,  not  only  in  the  tones 
of  spoken  language  but  in  the  burning  words  which  the  glowing 
heart  prompts  to  the  pen  of  the  eloquent  writer,  and  which,  when 
read  from  the  mouldering  parchment  or  the  crumbling  tablet,  ages 
after  they  were  written,  have  still  the  power  to  stir  men's  blood,  "as 
with  the  sound  of  a  trumpet."  It  inspires  the  modern  youth  with 
the  eloquence  of  Demosthenes,  in  the  words  with  which  he  "  fulmined 
over  Greece  ;"  it  kindles  the  heart  of  the  student  in  his  "still  removed 
place,"  with  the  fire  and  the  shout  and  the  fierceness  of  the  battle 
scenes  of  Homer ;  it  appalls  him  with  the  spectacle  of  the  victims  of 
inexorable  fate,  in  the  defiant  appeals  of  the  suffering  Prometheus,  as 
he  writhes  on  his  rock  of  torture, — in  the  superhuman  agonies  of  the 
doomed  Orestes, — in  the  wailings  of  the  guiltless  (Edipus,  when  he 
is  awakened  to  the  complicated  horrors  which  .he  has  unwittingly 
drawn  down  upon  himself  and  upon  the  very  au {.hoi's  of  his  being. 


62  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

It  is  the  same  expressive  power,  in  its  more  genial  forms,  which  lulia 
the  youthful  reader  into  the  dreamy  repose  of  the  pastoral  scenes  of 
the  eclogue,  where 

"  Every  shepherd  tells  his  tale 
Under  the  hawthorn  in  the  dale." 

It  is  the  same  power,  in  its  ecstatic  moods,  which  lights  up  the  soul 
with  the  brilliant  fire  of  the  lyric  ode,  whose  burning  words  have 
immortalized  equally  the  bard  and  the  hero  of  the  antique  world  of 
gods  and  godlike  men ;  and  it  is  still  the  same  magic  power  over 
sympathy  which  holds  us  entranced  over  "  what,  though  rare,  of  later 
age,"  we  feel  to  possess  the  same  sway  over  the  heart  as  that  which 
was  written  of  old  for  all  time. 

2.  IMAGINATION  :  its  Office  in  Expression. — Emotion  endows  man 
with  the  power  of  expression  :  his  ability  to  give  force  and  effect  to 
expression,  is  as  his  capability  of  emotion  ;  and  the  vividness  of  emo- 
tion is  dependent  on  his  susceptibility  of  feeling.  But  the  utmost  in- 
tensity of  feeling  might  exist  in  internal  consciousness  merely ;  the 
most  vehement  excitement  of  emotion  might  find  no  definite  or  intel- 
ligible manifestation  ;  it  might  be  but  the  idiot's  "  sound  and  fury, 
signifying  nothing;"  the  noblest  sentiments  of  the  human  soul  might 
find  no  adequate  expression ;  were  it  not  for  the  action  of  another 
faculty, — that  whose  office  it  is  to  give  form  to  the  vague  effects  of 
feeling,  to  embody  the  evanescent  phenomena  of  emotion,  and  to  give 
to  the  abstractions  of  thought  and  the  generalizations  of  sentiment  a 
definite  shape  and  the  durability  of  a  permanent  record. 

Consciousness  and  introversion  might  enable  the  individual  man  to 
hold  communion  with  his  own  inner  conditions  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing; and  memory  might  enable  him  to  recall  them.  But,  as  it  is  not 
given  to  man,  by  any  act  of  mere  direct  introspection,  to  read  the 
heart  or  mind  of  his  fellow  man,  sympathetic  and  intelligent  human 
intercommunication  requires,  as  a  condition,  the  aid  of  some  power  or 
faculty  by  which  feeling  may  be  distinctly  manifested,  not  merely  in 
its  stronger  and  involuntary  excitements,  but  also  in  its  quietest  moods, 
in  its  gentlest  movements  and  most  delicate  effects.  The  communica- 
tion of  pure  thought,  apart  entirely  from  excited  emotion,  is  also  a 
necessity  of  man's  mental  character  and  relations.  Intellect,  not  less 
than  feeling,  has  its  claims  on  utterance,  that  the  individual  may  be- 
come consciously  a  progressive  being,  and  that  mutual  intelligence 
and  benefit  may  be  ensured  to  society.  Some  means,  in  a  word,  are 
needed  to  represent  what  is  present  to  the  mind,  to  suggest  the  idea 
or  the  thought  which,  by  a  law  of  his  nature  impelling  him,  man  de- 
sires to  communicate  to  his  fellow  being. 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  (53 

Analogy,  the  Medium  of  Expression. — Taught  by  a  wisdom  above 
his  own,  man  finds,  in  the  analogies  of  the  outward  universe,  corre-  / 
spondences  to  his  own  inward  states  of  thought  and  feeling.  Theses 
analogous  forms  he  refers  to  as  interpreters,  in  his  acts  of  expression ; 
he  transfers  them,  by  a  heaven-taught  instinct,  from  their  original  places 
in  the  visible  outward  sphere  to  his  own  inner  and  invisible  world  of 
thought  and  feeling.  These  borrowed  forms,  addressing  themselves 
to  a  common  nature  in  common  circumstances,  become  the  suggestive 
language  of  emotion  and  intelligence  between  man  and  man ;  and, 
as  intellectual  skill  and  expertness  are  developed,  these  forms  are  at 
length  multiplied  and  complicated  so  as  to  assume  all  the  varied  shapes 
of  the  current  coin  of  speech,  even  in  its  most  arbitrary  modes  ; — just  as, 
in  the  history  of  human  intercourse,  traffic,  which  commenced  with 
the  interchange  and  barter  of  commodities,  gradually  becomes  a 
process  of  purchase  and  sale,  by  the  adoption  of  convenient  forms 
representing  value  and  price. 

Significance  of  the  term  " Imagination" — The  power  by  which 
man  recognizes  the  analogies  of  form  presented  in  the  external  world, 
the  power  by  which  he  represents  these,  the  power  by  which  he  trans- 
fers these  to  his  own  internal  world,  and  thus  images,  by  analogy, 
his  invisible,  impalpable,  feelings  and  conceptions ;  the  power  which 
thus  embodies  sentiment,  and  gives  shape  to  language  and  all  other 
modes  of  expression,  is  suggestively  named  "Imagination," — the 
imaging  faculty. 

The  Sphere  of  Imagination. — The  office  of  this  faculty,  as  an  ex- 
pressive power,  is  one  of  vast  extent  and  of  immense  value ;  and  its 
domain,  like  that  of  emotion,  is  indefinite.  Intellect,  in  its  widest  excur- 
sions and  its  highest  aims,  is  definite  and  limited.  Its  outward  sphere 
is  that  of  sense,  as  comprehended  by  the  understanding,  and  measured 
by  the  rule  of  judgment ;  its  inner  sphere  is  that  of  reason  acting  on 
data  of/definite  thought,  even  in  its  purest  abstractions  and  widest 
generalizations.  Intellect,  in  its  judicial  and  critical  capacity,  may 
justly  assume1  the  authority  of  deciding  on  the  symmetry  and  pro- 
portion of  expression  as  the  form  of  thought.  But  it  has  no  creative, 
no  inventive  power  by  which  to  call  up  form ;  it  may  interpret  or  ex- 
plain feeling  ;  but  it  can  not,  without  the  aid  of  imagination,  embody 
it.  Imagination  extends  its  dominion  alike  over  feeling  and  intellect : 
it  possesses,  exclusively,  the  power  of  investing  them  with  form.  As 
a  sovereign  in  the  vast  world  of  analogy,  it  reaches,  in  one  direction, 
to  the  farthest  limits  of  the  outward  universe,  wherever  form  exists, 
in  conditions  known  or  unknown  ;  in  another  direction,  it  penetrates 
the  deepest  secrets  of  human  feeling,  and  brings  them  up  from  their 


64  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

darkest  regions  of  half-unconscious  being  to  the  world  of  form  and 
light,  endues  them  with  conscious  life  and  speech,  and  sends  them 
abroad  as  ministering  angels  of  good  or  evil ;  in  still  another  direction, 
it  explores  the  ethereal  world  of  thought,  and,  by  its  creative  energy, 
gives  imagery,  and  form,  and  recognized  character  to  impalpable 
ideas,  clothes  the  naked  conceptions  of  intellect  with  the  garb  of 
symmetrical  expression,  forges  the  golden  links  of  language  for  the 
continuous  processes  of  reason,  invests  sentiment  with  the  living  maj- 
esty and  power  of  utterance,  and  crowns  the  inspired  productions  of 
the  artist  and  the  poet  with  the  consummate  beauty  of  form  and  the 
music  of  immortal  verse. 

3.  FANCY  :  its  Effects  on  Expression. — This  faculty,  although  it 
possesses  a  character  so  peculiarly  marked  by  external  tendencies,  and 
proneness  to  a  lower  sphere  of  action  than  that  of  imagination,  can 
hardly  claim,  with  justice,  the  dignity  of  a  separate  and  independent 
existence.  The  term  "  Fancy,"  (fantasy,)  is,  strictly  speaking,  but 
another  name  for  imagination,  when  that  faculty,  as  an  expressive 
power,  assumes,  occasionally,  a  lower  than  its  wonted  office,  and,  not 
content  with  the  creation  of  form,  descends  to  the  addition  of  minute 
detail,  in  the  shape,  or  figure,  or  color  of  its  embodiments.  Fancy, 
considered  as  a  separate  faculty,  may  be  regarded  as  the  servant  and 
laborer  of  imagination,  employed  to  take  charge  of  all  the  merely  out- 
ward effects  of  expressive  art,  but  whose  ambition  sometimes  leads  it  to 
aim  at  higher  offices  than  it  is,  in  itself,  competent  to  fill.  Attempting 
the  creation  of  visible  beauty,  it  assumes  the  office  of  a  presiding  deity 
over  the  fleeting,  fluctuating  phenomena  of  fashion  and  other  mani- 
festations of  arbitrary  taste.  Uniting  itself  with  humor  and  burlesque, 
it  displays  the  whole  world  of  fantastic  oddity,  drollery,  and  grotesque 
effects,  of  every  species.  It  handles,  with  peculiar  skill,  the  pencil  of 
the  caricaturist,  and  delights,  sometimes,  in  the  most  hideous  exaggera- 
tions. It  contrives,  occasionally,  to  lay  mischievous  hands  on  Taste, 
and  with1  perverting  influence  to  make  her  play  all  manner  of  antics, 
quite  unconscious,  all  the  while,  how  infinitely  absurd  and  ridiculous 
she  is  making  herself  appear.  Hence  the  whole  world  of  absurd  form 
and  combinations  in  modes  of  dress  and  decoration,  in  incongruous 
architecture,  deformed  sculpture,  distorted  drawing,  tawdry  coloring, 
paltry  novel-writing,  fugitive  (and  vagabond)  verses,  agonistic  orations, 
and  nondescript  lectures. 

Fancy,  however,  has  also  her  own  becoming  and  proper  part  to 
play,  when,  in  strictest  unison  with  true  Taste,  and  in  filial  obedience 
to  her  parent,  Imagination,  she  gives  symmetry  to  our  dwellings  and 
to  our  garments,  genuine  grace  to  manners,  true  beauty  to  our  gardens, 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  55 

happy  touches  to  the  details  of  artistic  execution,  chaste  style  to  wri- 
ting, and  manly  plainness  to  speech. 

4.  IMITATION  :  its  Tendencies. — The  faculty  of  Imitation  and  the 
tendency  to  its  exercise,  which, — in  the  earlier  stages  of  life,  more  par- 
ticularly,— man  possesses  in  common  with  many  other  of  the  animal 
tribes,  form,  in  whatever  regards  expression,  a  peculiar  source  of 
power.  It  ensures,  when  judiciously  developed,  as  a  salutary  instinct, 
all  the  advantages  arising  from  native  facility,  as  contrasted  with  the 
comparatively  slow  acquirements  and  laborious  endeavors  of  mere  arti- 
ficial or  mechanical  training.  The  long  non-age  required  for  the 
comparatively  slow  development  and  maturing  of  the  human  being, 
implies  a  large  dependence  on  the  fostering  care  of  parental  guardian- 
ship and  example;  and  the  innate  propensity  to  imitation,  on  the  part 
of  the  child,  coincides,  in  the  effect  of  rendering  more  ample  the 
opportunity  of  a  long  course  of  model  training  and  practical  lessons 
in  the  appropriate  accomplishments  of  humanity.  Among  these, 
Speech,  as  the  consummation  of  the  expressive  faculties,  thus  becomes 
the  inheritance  which  one  generation  transmits  to  another, — a  posses- 
sion unconsciously  acquired,  although  actually  the  result  of  long-con- 
tinued training,  and  sometimes,  of  painful  efforts  in  detail. 

Drawing,  as  on  Imitative  Art. — The  imitative  tendency  of  the 
young,  leading,  as  it  doos,  to  the  perfecting  of  utterance,  as  an  exer- 
cise in  which  practice  begets  skill,  extends  its  influence,  by  the  law  of 
analogy,  far  and  wide,  over  every  branch  of  art  which  involves  ex- 
pression as  a  result.  Nor  is  there  one  of  all  these  branches  which 
does  not,  by  the  habitual  practice  of  it,  under  the  same  law,  serve  to 
discipline  and  perfect  the  power  of  expression  in  every  other. 

The  feelings,  the  imagination,  the  conceptive  power,  the  taste,  and 
even  the  critical  judgment  of  the  young  mind,  are  all  called  into  as 
active  exercise,  in  every  earnest  attempt  to  draw  in  outline,  to  shade, 
or  to  color  the  form  of  any  external  object,  as  in  any  endeavor  to 
describe  it  by  tongue  or  pen.  Indeed,  the  extreme  fixedness  of  atten- 
tion demanded  for  exact  and  faithful  delineation  by  the  pencil,  ensures 
a  yet  higher  degree  of  mental  activity,  than  does  any  other  form  of 
descriptive  execution,  and  contributes  more  effectually  to  the  develop- 
ment of  graphic  power  of  expression  in  language,  than  can  any  direct 
exercise  in  speech  or  writing ;  because  the  same  powers  are  exerted  in 
the  one  case  ae  in  the  other,  but  with  much  more  care  and  closeness 
of  application. 

MUM,  as  an  Imitative  Art. — Another  of  the  poetic  and  purely 
beneficent  forms  of  the  divinely  implanted  faculty  of  imitation,  by 
which  man  attains  the  development  of  his  powers  of  expression  and 

1  E 


gfj  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

communication,  is  that  of  Music,  in  the  form  of  song.  The  young 
ear  drinks  in,  instinctively  and  intuitively,  the  beauty  of  sound,  as  the 
eye  takes  in  that  of  form  and  color.  The  laws  of  melodic  variation 
of  tone  seem  to  be  inscribed  on  the  human  ear,  with  few  exceptions, 
as  the  laws  of  graceful  form  and  expansion  are  stamped  on  the  plant. 
But  the  musical  sense  is  not  a  merely  dry  perception  or  recognition,  or 
a  mechanical  obedience  to  law.  It  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  forms 
in  which  man  becomes  conscious  of  the  pleasure  of  feeling  or  the 
power  of  emotion ;  and,  as  his  culture  extends,  he  recognizes  it  as 
the  intelligent  utterance  of  sentiment,  in  the  noblest  expressions  of 
social  sympathy,  or  even  of  devotional  aspiration. 

The  imitative  practice  of  music,  accordingly,  in  all  its  forms,  from 
the  humblest  lullaby  of  the  nursery  to  the  most  exalted  strains  of  the 
perfect  vocalist,  becomes  a  powerful  discipline  of  the  ear,  because  of 
the  heart,  the  intellect,  and  the  imagination.  It  prepares  them  to 
receive  more  fully  the  impressions  of  the  melody  of  speech,  and,  in 
due  season,  to  give  forth  their  effects  in  appropriate  expression.  The 
child  imbibes  from  the  mother's  song  the  theme  of  its  own  imitative 
efforts,  and  from  the  simple  beauty  of  the  natural  model,  catches,  at  the 
same  time,  unconsciously,  the  emotion  of  which  it  is  the  utterance,  and 
thus  early  learns  to  unite  expression  with  feeling.  At  a  later  stage  of 
his  musical  culture  and  development,  he  acquires  more  consciously  and 
more  distinctly,  a  perception  of  the  inspiration  which  marks  the  tones 
of  the  empassioned  eloquence  of  the  orator  and  the  poet,  and  learns 
to  appreciate  the  delicious  melody  of  the  "  numerous  verse"  which 
"clothes  the  poet's  thought  in  fitting  sound." 

The  great  masters  in  musical  science  and  art,  abundantly  prove,  by 
the  transcendent  delight  which  their  efforts  yield  to  universal  man, 
the  power  and  value  of  music  as  an  expressive  art,  independently  of 
its  relation  to  the  cultivation  of  the  power  of  languag*?.  But  the  in- 
tensity of  pleasure  derived  from  the  perfection  of  musical  composition 
and  execution  combined,  suggests  instructively  to  the  educator  the 
power  which  even  the  elementary  practice  of  this  imitative  art  exerts 
on  the  character  of  expression,  when  embodied  in  the  forms  of  lan- 
guage,— the  ability  which  it  gives  to  touch  the  heart,  or  to  kindle 
emotion,  and  to  throw  the  whole  soul  of  the  speaker  and  the  writer 
into  the  mould  of  utterance. 

5.  PERSONATION:  its  Tendency  and  Effects,  as  a^  Mode  of  Ex- 
pression.— The  faculty  of  imitation  with  which  man  is  endowed,  as  a 
form  of  expressive  power,  leading  him  to  the  acquisition  of  language, 
is  early  manifested  in  the  passion  of  childhood  for  Personation ;  the 
living,  actual  representation  of  what  he  sees  going  on  in  the  human 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  (ft 

world  around  him.  The  lively  feelings  of  the  child  are  not  satisfied 
with  the  mere  verbal  presentation  of  thought  and  feeling  in  the  arbi- 
trary and  conventional  forms  of  language.  He  has  an  instinctive 
desire  to  impersonate  the  being  of  others  in  himself,  and  thus  to  en- 
ter more  fully  into  their  feelings,  and  acquire  a  truer  power  of  ex- 
pressing them.  To  his  fresh  sympathies  and  ever  active  imagination, 
life  around  him  is  a  drama :  "  all  the  world's  a  stage,  and  all  the  men 
and  women  are  but  players,"  each  performing  his  part. 

The  child,  the  primitive  man,  the  poet,  all  tend  to  dramatize  hu- 
man life,  and  to  present  it  in  living  impersonation.  The  boy  struts 
the  mimic  soldier,  to  his  own  mimic  music;  he  drags  his  little  wagon 
as  an  imaginary  fire-engine,  or  mounts  a  chair  and  plays  the  orator 
to  his  little  mates.  In  his  puerile  sports,  he  enacts  a  character  or  an 
incident,  in  dumb  show,  and  requires  that  his  juvenile  companions 
shall  express  it  in  words.  He  personates  a  hero  in  history,  or  makes 
one  in  a  group  in  a  tableau,  in  which,  as  an  Indian  brave,  he  is  about 
to  dash  out  the  brains  of  Captain  Smith  with  his  war-club,  when  his 
sister,  as  the  compassionate  princess  Pocahontas,  rushes  in,  and  res- 
cues the  hero.  At  the  academy  exhibition,  he  personifies  Mark  An- 
tony weeping  over  the  murdered  Caesar,  and  with  words  of  fire  rousing 
the  Romans  to  mutiny,  "crying  havoc!  and  letting  slip  the  dogs  of 
war;"  or  he  resorts,  in  preference,  to  the  pen,  and  dramatizes  a  scene 
from  his  country's  history,  which  he  and  his  class-mates  enact  to  the 
life,  according  to  their  power.  In  the  maturity  of  his  intellect,  and 
amid  the  grave  duties  of  professional  life,  he  pauses,  perhaps,  to  re- 
create himself,  and  delight  the  world  with  the  production  of  a  Comus 
or  a  Hamlet,  in  which,  besides  furnishing  the  composition,  he  still 
takes  an  active  part  in  the  business  of  representation,  and,  true  to  the 
dramatic  instinct  of  his  nature,  sustains  a  character  himself.  It  is 
thus  that  he  completes  the  educational  training  by  which  he  attains 
to  the  height  of  eloquence  and  expressive  power  in  word  and  action ; 
and  this  dramatic  faculty  of  personation,  while  it  gives  vividness  and 
intensity  to  his  utterance,  proclaims  the  meaning  and  intention  of  the 
self-discipline  to  which  he  was  early  impelled,  by  unconscious  instinct. 

6.  REPRESENTATION  :  The  Language  of  Signs. — In  addition  to  the 
more  imaginative  and,  sometimes,  physical  or  corporeal  manifestations 
of  expressive  power,  which  the  human  being  exhibits  in  imitative  acts, 
he  possesses,  as  his  special  attribute,  in  virtue  of  his  intellectual  en- 
dowments, working  in  unison  with  the  instinctive  elements  of  his  na- 
ture, that  peculiar  faculty  of  Representation,  by  which  he  is  enabled 
to  suggest  his  thoughts  or  feelings  to  the  mind  of  his  fellow  man,  by 
substituting  for  graphic  or  mimetic,  or  other  forms  of  delineation,  con- 


gg  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

ventional  signs,  audible  or  visible,  devised  by  his  imaginative  facul- 
ties of  invention  and  combination.  These  signs  are  recognized  and 
defined  by  his  conceptive  intellect ;  they  are  interpreted  by  the  under- 
standing, acting  on  a  law  of  arbitrary  association,  established  by  mu- 
tual agreement  or  common  consent,  and  ultimately  sanctioned  by 
prevalent  usage.  Furnished  with  this  primitive  telegraphic  apparatus 
of  audible  and  visible  signs,  man  is  enabled  to  put  himself  in  com- 
munication with  his  sympathetic,  intelligent,  and  rational  fellow- 
beings, — to  reveal  to  them  the  workings  of  his  mind,  and  disclose  the 
inmost  secrets  of  his  heart. 

Speech  and  Writing. — Disciplined  and  perfected  by  art  and  skill, 
and  aided  by  ingenious  and  asiduous  educational  cultivation,  man's 
primitive  power  of  utterance  and  expression,  ultimately  manifests  it- 
self in  the  consummated  forms  of  spoken  and  written  language,  regu- 
lated by  the  laws  of  thought,  as  dictated  by  the  sciences  of  logic  and 
grammar,  and  adorned  by  the  graces  of  rhetoric. 

Language,  a  measure  of  Power. — The  feeble  but  persevering  en- 
deavors of  childhood  to  conquer  the  difficulties  of  articulation,  and  to 
compass  the  power  of  oral  expression,  indicate,  by  the  successive 
years  which  the  task  demands,  how  arduous  is  its  accomplishment, 
and  how  thoroughly  it  puts  to  proof  the  ability  which  the  young  hu- 
man being  possesses  to  direct  and  develop  his  own  powers  of  exe- 
cution. Yet  more  striking  is  the  magnitude  of  the  task  and  the  tri- 
umph, in  the  progress  achieved  by  the  student  of  written  language, 
from  the  date  of  his  first  attempt,  in  boyhood,  to  pen  a  letter  or  com-, 
pose  a  theme,  to  the  time  when,  in  the  maturity  of  his  intellectual 
manhood,  he  rises  to  address  assembled  multitudes  of  his  fellow  men, 
and  to  sway  them  by  the  potency  of  triumphant  eloquence;  or  when 
he  issues  from  his  poetic  privacy  a  work  which  shall  live  for  ages,  as 
an  object  of  wonder  and  admiration. 

Pictured  and  Written  Characters. — Somewhat  similar,  indeed, 
have  been  the  difficulty  and  the  progress  in  the  attainment  of  a  mas- 
tery over  the  merely  external  part  of  written  language ;  as  we  per- 
ceive when  tracing  the  process  from  its  primal  rude  attempts  in  the 
form  of  graphic  delineations,  through  its  advancement  to  symbolic 
representation,  and,  ultimately,  to  phonetic  characters  and  alphabetic 
letters.  Of  the  width  of  this  vast  field  of  human  labor,  and  of  the 
toil  which  its  cultivation  has  cost,  we  have  no  adequate  conception, 
till  we  look  at  the  graphic  delineations  which  form  the  historical 
records  of  Nineveh,  or  at  the  symbolic  hieroglyphics  and  the  clumsy 
phonetic  characters  inscribed  on  the  temples  of  Egypt,  and  then  con- 
trast with  these  the  simple  and  symmetrical  letters  of  the  Greek  or 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  QQ 

Roman  alphabet,  known  and  read  alike  throughout  the  ancient  and 
modern  world  of  civilization. 

The  Value  of  Language. — Man's  expressive  power  seems  to  have 
consummated  itself  in  the  representative  phenomena  of  language. 
In  this  form  his  whole  nature,  animal,  intellectual,  and  moral,  finds 
effectual  utterance ;  and  by  this  instrumentality,  does  he  become  pre- 
eminently a  progressive  being.  Language  is  the  channel  in  which 
the  ceaseless  stream  of  mental  action  flows  onward  to  its  great  re- 
sults. Without  this  outlet,  his  soul,  imprisoned  within  itself,  would 
stagnate,  and  all  its  wondrous  powers  perish  from  inaction.  As  the 
medium  of  communication  between  mind  and  mind,  language  renders 
education  practicable,  and  brings  to  the  aid  of  the  individual  the  ac- 
cumulated thoughts  of  all  times  and  of  all  men.  Language  is  the 
peculiar  and  chosen  province  of  education.  Every  process  of  human 
culture  is  conducted  through  its  agency ;  every  result  attained  in  hu- 
man progress  is  recorded  in  its  terms ;  and  in  every  civilized* and  cul- 
tivated community  language  is  justly  taken  as  the  measure  of  indi- 
vidual and  social  attainment. 

7.  TASTE  :  The  Signification  of  the  Term.— The  word  u  Taste,"  em- 
ployed to  designate  one  of  the  expressive  faculties,  might  seem,  from 
its  primary  signification,  (relink,)  to  be  one  appropriately  applied 
rather  to  a  passive  and  receptive  condition  of  mind,  than  to  one  so 
active  or  energetic  as  are  all  those  which  are  properly  termed  "  ex- 
pressive." But,  in  the  affairs  of  the  mental  world,  not  less  than  in 
those  of  the  political,  influence  is  often  more  efficient  than  power. 
So  it  is  with  Taste. — The  office  of  this  faculty  in  relation  to  express- 
ion, is  to  retain,  in  th§  selection  and  use  of  language,  the  relish  for 
appropriateness,  symmetry,  and  grace,  which  the  soul  has  imbibed 
from  the  primitive  beauty  of  the  forms  and  the  effects — in  other 
words,  the  language — of  nature, — that  other  name  for  life  and  truth. 

Character  of  True  Taxte. — As  true  taste  secures  genuine  beauty  of 
effect,  it  is  not  a  merely  passive  power.  It  rejects  every  false  savor ; 
for  it  relishes  only  the  true.  It  refuses  to  inhale  the  flavor  of  the 
artificial  perfume ;  because  it  prefers  the  aroma  of  nature.  It  detests 
the  ugly,  and  shuns  the  ungraceful ;  but  it  loves  the  truly  beautiful, 
and  builds  the  fabric  of  noble  thought  "  after  the  pattern  shown  it  on 
the  mount,"  as  a  chaste  harmonious  whole,  conceived  in  pure  ideal 
perfection,  and  executed  with  faultless  skill,  like  that  structure  which 

"Rose  like  an  exhalation,  with  the  sound 
Of  dulcet  symphonies  and  vo'ces  sweet ; 
Built  like  a  temple,  where  pilasters  round 
Were  set,  and  Doric  pillars  overlaid 
With  golden  architrave  ;  nor  did  there  want 
Cornice  or  frieze  with  bossy  sculpture  graven  ; 
The  roof  was  fretted  gold." 


70  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

Taste  is  not  a  quality  merely  negative  in  its  influence  :  it  is,  in 
language,  a  positive  power.  It  suggests  and  prescribes  beauty  ;  and, 
in  all  expression,  beauty  is  power.  Taste  virtually  decides  and  ordains 
the  forms  of  language.  It  is  therefore  justly  classed  as  an  expressive 
faculty.  It  blends  its  effects,  undoubtedly,  with  those  of  imagination 
and  fancy,  and  with  those  of  sentiment  and  emotion  ;  controlling  and 
directing  and  modifying  these  by  its  intuitive  recognition  of  the  eter- 
nal laws  of  beauty  and  proportion,  and  instinctively  rejecting  every 
blemish.  If  it  is  sometimes  lost,  to  appearance,  in  the  effects  pro- 
duced by  the  more  obvious  working  of  other  expressive  forces ;  its 
actual  presence  and  power  are  not  less  deeply  felt  in  the  pervading 
harmony  which,  in  such  circumstances,  it  has  established,  and  the 
genuine  beauty  which  it  has  diffused.  Its  influence  extends  over 
every  form  of  expressive  art;  and  its  results  are  equally  legible  in  all. 
It  guides  the  pencil  of  the  painter,  the  chisel  of  the  sculptor,  the  tool 
of  the  *rtizan,  the  hand  of  the  musician,  the  pen  of  the  poet,  the 
voice  and  action  of  the  speaker.  It  reigns  over  every  form  of  lan- 
guage; and  it  moulds  alike  habit,  character,  and  manners;  for 'all  of 
these  are  but  varied  modes  of  expression. 

Taste,  under  the  Influence  of  Culture. — Of  all  the  faculties  with 
•which  man  is  endued,  none,  perhaps,  is  more  susceptible  of  cultivation 
than  taste ;  and  none  yields  larger  results  to  the  process.  Trained 
under  the  fresh  aspects  of  nature,  and  the  strict  discipline  of  truth,  it 
becomes  one  of  the  most  healthful  influences  that  a  liberal  culture 
infuses  into  the  human  soul.  It  leads  to  the  true,  the  pure,  and  the 
beautiful,  in  every  relation  of  thought  and  feeling.  Next  to  the  hal- 
lowing influence  of  religious  principle,  it  elevates  and  refines  the  whole 
being,  and  confers  pure  and  lasting  enjoyment  on  its  possessor.  It 
forms  one  of  the  most  attractive  graces  of  character,  and  breathes  a 
genuine  charm  over  the  aspect  of  social  life.  But  neglected,  cor- 
rupted, or  perverted,  deprived  of  the  healthful  air  of  nature,  aban- 
doned to  coarse  and  low  association,  vitiated  by  the  influence  of  false 
custom,  distorted  by  conventional  regulations,  or  tainted  by  the  im- 
pure atmosphere  of  vice,  taste  becomes  depraved,  and  morbidly  craves 
deformity  instead  of  beauty,  and  prefers  falsehood  to  truth. 
(II.)  THE  ACTUATING  PRINCIPLE,  OR  IMPELLING  FORCE,  OF  THE 
EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

FEELING  :  its  Office  in  Expression. — The  Sensibility  with  which 
the  constitution  of  man,  as  a  sentient  animal  and  as  a  self-conscious 
moral  being,  is  invested,  and  by  which  he  is  stimulated  to  action  and 
to  utterance,  may,  for  our  present  purpose,  be  defined  as  that  element 
in  his  nature,  which, — whether  manifesting  itself  in  temporary  sym- 
pathy, in  permanent  affections, — in  vivid  emotion,  or  intense  passion 


CULTIVATION   OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  ^J 

has,  for  its  office,  the  excitation  of  his  being.  As  the  stimulus  of  hia 
constitution,  it  impels  man  to  the  function  of  expression,  as  a  result 
indispensable  to  sympathy  and  communication, — the  necessary  con- 
dition of  his  social  and  moral  life.  It  originates  in  that  sensibility  to 
pleasure  and  pain  by  which  the  Creator  has  enhanced  to  man  the 
enjoyment  and  the  value  of  his  organized  and  conscious  existence, 
and  secured  it,  at  the  same  time,  by  a  law  of  instinctive  dread,  from 
exposure  to  peril  and  to  destruction. 

Feeling,  as  an  Incitement  to  Sympathy. — The  effect  of  sensibility, 
in  this  relation,  is  three-fold  ;  producing  in  man,  (1.)  a  sympathy  with 
the  conditions  and  aspects  of  the  surrounding  external  world,  whether 
pleasurable  or  painful,  attractive  or  repulsive ;  (2.)  the  mutual  sym- 
pathy, conscious  correlation,  and  consentaneous  action  of  the  two 
component  elements  of  his  constitution, — body  and  mind ;  (3.)  a 
sympathy  with  his  fellow  men,  which  makes  him  a  partaker  of  their 
pleasures  and  pains,  causes  him  to  desire  a  return  of  their  sympathies 
to  himself,  and  consequently  leads  him  to  expression  and  communica- 
tion, as  the  means  of  exciting  and  attracting  it. 

Fetling,  as  an  Involuntary  or  Empassioned^ Instigation. — The  sen- 
tient and  susceptible  nature  of  man,  his  capacity  and  his  experience 
of  pleasure  and  pain,  affected  by  causes  whether  external  or  internal 
in  their  operation,  render  him  liable  to  unconscious  and  involuntary 
excitement,  rising,  sometimes,  to  the  height  of  passion.  This  excite- 
ment manifesting  itself  in  emotion, — the  main  spring  of  expression, 
— becomes,  in  some  circumstances,  itself  a  language  sufficiently  defi- 
nite, intelligible,  and  expressive  ;  as  may  be  observed  in  the  laughter 
and  the  crying  of  the  infant,  in  the  sympathizing  countenance  of  the 
compassionate  mother,  in  the  ruffled  features  and  angry  temper  of 
impatient  youth,  in  the  ghastly  face  of  the  terrified  child,  in  the  glare 
of  the  hostile  savage,  or  in  the  glad  smiles  of  the  emancipated  school- 
boy at  his  holiday  sport. 

Feeling,  influenced  by  Imagination  and  Volition. — The  beings 
and  forms  of  his  own  ideal  world  of  imagination  and  fancy,  or  of 
creative  thought,  have  also  their  exciting  power  over  the  internal 
sense  of  pleasure  or  of  pain,  and  impel  man,  more  or  less  voluntarily, 
to  exhibit  emotion,  and  to  find  its  natural  or  customary  form-  of  ex- 
pression in  the  articulate  words  of  speech, — in  the  simpler  eloquence 
of  mere  vocal  tone,  uttered  or  suppressed, — or  in  the  silent  but  more 
enduring  form  of  the  written  word. 

Influence  of  Feeling  on  the  Artist. — Even  language  itself,  however, 
in  its  most  distinct  and  definite  forms,  is  not  always  sufficiently  ex- 
pressive for  empassioned  emotion.  The  admiration  of  grandeur  or 


72  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

beauty  may  be  strong  enough  and  deep  enough  to  demand  some 
more  palpable  and  durable  shape  in  which  to  express  itself.  The 
intense  delight  in  beauty  impels  the  Artist  to  devote  himself  to  days 
and  nights  of  toil  over  the  image  which  alone  can  satisfy  the  longing 
of  his  soul,  for  the  visible  presence  of  the  loveliness  which  his  fancy 
has  conceived  in  his  inner  world  of  life  and  form. 

On  the  Actions  of  the  Child  and  of  the  Adult. — It  is  the  untaught, 
unconscious  working  of  the  emotion  of  love  which  makes  the  child 
find  expression  for  his  sympathy  in  the  act  of  imitating  the  gait  and 
actions,  and  the  characteristic  expressions  of  those  whom  he  admires. 
Nor  does  adult  man  always  escape  the  effects  of  this  tendency,  when 
maturity  of  mind  and  habits  of  grave  research  seem  sometimes  to 
render  the  result  ridiculous. 

On  the  Actor  and  his  Audience.— The  natural  delight  in  sympathy 
and  communication,  is  the  incitement  which  impels  the  actor  on  the 
stage  to  assume  and  exhibit,  in  his  plastic  frame  and  features,  the 
agonies  of  dramatic  passion,  in  all  their  terrific  extremes,  while  he 
personates  the  ravings  of  Lear,  the  frenzy  of  Othello,  or  the  remorse 
of  Macbeth  ;  and  it  is  the  same  cause  which  attracts,  night  after  night, 
to  the  crowded  theatre,  the  audience  who  thus  acknowledge  the  furce 
of  the  great  element  of  sympathy  in  human  nature,  and  the  power 
which  vivid  expression  exercises  over  the  heart,  when  it  has  even  the 
well  sustained  semblance  of  coming  from  the  heart. 

On  the  Eloquence  of  the  Orator. — It  is  from  sympathy  with  the 
very  passions  which  he  delights  to  excite,  that  the  orator  devotes  his 
days  of  seclusion  and  nights  of  application  to  the  study  of  every  art 
by  which  expression  may  be  heightened  and  emotion  aroused,  when 
the  decisive  moment  is  come,  and  the  interests  of  the  state  are  at 
hazard,  and  men  are  to  feel  that  their  welfare  or  their  safety  is  to 
depend  on  adopting  the  views  of  an  eloquent  and  competent  leader. 

On  the  soul  of  the  Poet. — It  is  sympathy  with  the  highest  senti- 
ments and  emotions  of  his  race,  and  the  conscious  delight  in  giving 
these  a  noble  utterance,  that  inspires  the  poet  with  the  assurance  of 
immortality,  while  he  meditates  his  great  theme,  and  touches  and  re- 
touches, his  artistic  work,  till  it  stands  forth  complete  in  the  majestic 
beauty  and  perfection  after  which  his  soul  has,  for  years,  aspired. 

Universality  of  Feeling,  as  the  Actuating  Principle  of  Expression. — 
In  all  the  above  and  similar  instances,  the  sympathetic  feeling  which 
thirsts  for  expression,  and  impels  to  the  utterance  or  the  recording  of 
sentiment,  is  one  and  the  same.  It  may  assume  the  definiteness  and 
the  depth  of  a  personal  affection,  or  the  intensity  and  the  comparative 
excess  of  a  passion,  to  whatever  extent  the  instigation  of  feeling  may 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  73 

excite  the  sentient  agent.  But  it  is  still  the  same  element  of  sensi- 
bility, only  working  in  deeper  channels,  and  with  a  stronger  tide,  and 
therefore  doing  its  work  more  effectually  and  impressively.  In  what- 
ever form,  it  is  still  but  an  act  of  obedience  to  the  law  of  his  consti- 
tution, by  which  man,  as  a  sympathetic  being,  is  impelled  to  expres- 
sion, that  he  may  attain  to  the  power  and  the  habit  of  communica- 
tion ;  arid  thus  fulfill  the  conditions  of  his  social  and  moral  nature. 

Influence  cf  Feeling  on  Moral  Character,  as  a  Form  of  Expression. — 
The  extent  to  which  the  element  of  feeling  exerts  its  power  over  ex- 
pression, and  the  degree  to  which  its  development  in  this  relation  may 
be  carried,  under  the  influence  of  educational  culture,  can  be  appro- 
priately measured  only  when  we  trace  it  to  its  effects  on  the  tenden- 
cies, the  character,  and  the  will  of  human  beings  individually,  or  in 
their  aggregations  in  society.  In  either  case,  we  see  it  in  the  gentle, 
the  peaceful,  and  affectionate  spirit  of  the  genuine  disciple  of  Him 
whom  we  reverence  as  the  "  meek  and  the  lowly,"  and  in  the  genial 
intercourse  of  communities  governed  by  the  influence  of  His  law  of 
universal  love ;  or  we  read  it  in  the  arrogance,  the  violence,  and  the 
hatred,  of  which  perverted  humanity  is  so  fatally  capable.  As  "  out 
of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh,"  the  prevalent 
emotions  and  expression, 'the  manners,  and  the  habitual  language  of 
man,  in  these  opposite  conditions  of  individual  and  social  life,  will 
depict  themselves  on  character  and  action. 

Influence  of  Feeling  on  the  Character  of  Art. — In  the  visible  lan- 
guage of  graphic  art,  we  read  the  same  lesson  of  the  power  of  feeling 
as  an  element  of  expression.  We  see  it  in  the  appalling  force  with 
which  the  sculptor  has  presented  the  agony  of  pain  and  struggle,  in 
the  writhing  frame  and  contorted  features  of  Laocoon,  or  the  perfect 
placidity  and  repose  with  which  he  has  invested  the  face  and  form  of 
Antinous.  Nor  is  the  lesson  less  impressive  when  we  turn  from  the 
superhuman  fierceness  of  expression  in  attitude  and  features,  which 
characterizes  the  delineations  of  passion  and  penal  torture,  in  some  of 
the  figures  depicted  by  the  hand  of  Angelo,  to  the  serenity,  the  sanc- 
tity, and  the  unutterable  loveliness,  beaming  from  the  half-divine 
forms  in  which  innocence  or  holiness  is  pictured  by  the  pencil  of 
Raphael. 

Its  power  in  Music. — The  ear  drinks  in  the  same  lesson  of  the  power 
of  empassioned  expression,  while  it  listens  to  the  great  masters  of 
musical  art,  and  feels  the  majesty  of  its  utterance,  as  conceived  in  the 
soul  of  Handel,  and  worthily  executed  by  the  skillful  hand  of  the  ac- 
complished performer.  From  such  effects  of  sublimity  and  force  and 
solemn  grandeur,  down  to  the  breathings  of  tenderness  in  a  plaintive 
strain  of  pastoral  melody,  the  thrill,  responding  to  the  stirring  air  of 


74  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

the  soldier's  march,  or  the  wild  gayety  of  the  peasant's  dance,  we  have 
but  the  varied  forms  in  which  emotion  evinces  its  sway  over  this  most 
expressive  of  arts,  by  the  inspiration  which  it  breathes  into  its  num- 
berless moods. 

Its  Effect  on  Language. — To  the  emotive  force  of  feeling,  Lan- 
guage owes  all  its  sublimest  and  most  beautiful  forms  of  cultivated 
utterance,  whether  in  expressing  the  depth  of  affection  or  the  intensity 
of  passion;  and  the  remark  is  equally  true  of  the  literature  of  the 
elder  world  and  that  of  modern  times.  In  no  record  of  humanity  is 
the  fact  more  strikingly  exhibited  than  in  the  pages  of  the  Sacred 
volume,  where  the  heart  of  man  is  laid  open  in  all  its  workings,  in 
the  primitive  language  of  poetic  imagination  and  Divine  truth  com- 
bined, and  where  the  human  soul  pours  itself  forth  in  every  mood  ; 
now  wondering  at  the  vastness  of  the  creation,  or  adoring  the  infinite 
majesty  of  the  Creator ;  now  humbled  to  the  dust,  under  the  sense  of 
man's  insignificance,  or,  in  the  tones  of  contrition  and  penitence,  im- 
ploring the  boon  of  pardon ;  uttering  thanks  for  boundless  goodness 
and  mercy  ;  rejoicing  in  the  conscious  favor  of  God;  sympathizing  in 
the  gladness  and  beauty  of  nature  ;  touched  by  the  paternal  tender- 
ness and  compassion  of  Jehovah,  or  joining  in  the  denunciations  of 
"  indignation  and  wrath,  tribulation  and  anguish,"  threatened  to  his 
enemies. 

In  all  the  uninspired  delineations  of  thought  which  have  come 
down  to  us  from  ancient  times,  it  is  the  same  pervading  element  of 
feeling  which  has  given  them  their  lasting  life  and  their  sway  over  the 
mind.  To  some  prominent  passages  of  this,  character  we  have  already 
alluded  ;  and,  for  the  present,  the  allusion  must  suffice.  Nor  have  we 
time  now  to  dwell  on  corresponding  examples  drawn 'from  modern 
literature,  the  peculiar  charm  of  which,  in  one  word,  is  the  power 
with  which  it  calls  forth  the  natural  emotions  of  the  heart.  In  every 
form  which  literature  assumes,  as  a  power  or  an  influence  over  the 
soul,  exerted  through  the  medium  of  expressive  language,  the  main 
spring  of  effect,  the  grand  motive  power,  is  feeling.  The  life  of  ex- 
pression, in  all  its  cultivated  forms  of  language  or  of  art,  is  emotion. 

Feeling,  under  the  Guidance  of  Education. — Recognizing  the  fact 
last  mentioned,  the  intelligent  superintendent  of  education  will  direct 
his  endeavors  to  the  due  cherishing,  strengthening,  and  developing, 
as  well  as  to  the  moulding,  guiding,  and  governing  of  this  great  ele- 
ment of  intellectual  and  moral  power.  With  his  eye  fixed  on  this 
momentous  issue,  he  will  watch  the  natural  tendency  and  direction  of 
the  instinct  whose  action  he  is  to  guide,  so  as  intelligently  to  co- 
operate with  its  spontaneous  working,  and  aid  in  the  accomplish- 
ments of  its  peculiar  office. 


THE  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  75 

The  teacher  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  or,  at  least,  so  far  as  he  is  a 
teacher  of  language,  bound  to  furnish  his  pupil  with  the  invaluable 
advantage  resulting  from  a  ready  command  of  correct  expression, 
one  of  the  surest  passports  to  usefulness  and  success  in  life.  But  the 
life-spark  of  expression  can  not  be  struck  from  a  dull  mind.  The 
latent  fire  of  feeling  must  be  kindled,  must  be  brought  to  the  surface, 
that  it  may  glow  in  the  living  look  and  audible  tone  of  emotion,  or 
beam  forth  in  the  burning  words  of  eloquence,  whether  flowing  from 
tongue  or  pen.  The  judicious  instructor  will  resort  to  every  expe- 
dient suggested  by  the  life  and  beauty  of  nature  and  of  art,  as  sources  of 
inspiration,  whence  corresponding  life,  and  beauty,-and  expressive  pow- 
er may  be  breathed  into  the  soul  of  his  pupil,  and  live  in  his  utterance. 

III.  THE  TENDENCY  OR  HABIT  OF  ACTION,  IN  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FAC- 
ULTIES, AS  IT  is  MANIFESTED  IN  UTTERANCE. 

Utterance  an  Instinct. — When  we  contemplate  man  as  a  being  ca- 
pable of  education,  he  may,  for  our  immediate  purpose,  be  regarded 
as  furnished  by  his  Creator,  with  what  may  be  termed  the  apparatus 
of  expression,  in  the  gift  of  the  various  faculties  which  we  have  been 
hitherto  considering.  We  perceive  him  further  provided  with  an 
adequate  motive  power,  by  which  this  apparatus  is  propelled,  in  the 
involuntary  or  voluntary  action  of  feeling.  The  indication  next  to 
be  obseived  by  the  educator,  as  the  suggestion  for  his  guidance,  in 
his  endeavors  to  cooperate  with  Nature's  tendency  to  development, 
is,  In  what  direction  does  the  action  of  the  expressive  faculties  nat- 
urally tend?  What,  in  this  instance,  is  the  instinct  of  spontaneity? 
What,  under  the  guidance  of  his  own  inward  promptings,  does  the 
child  incline  to  do  or  to  become  ?  What  habit  or  attribute  of  char- 
acter does  he  thus  acquire  ?  The  answer  furnished  by  observation,  in 
this  case,  plainly  is, — Man,  as  a  sentient,  intellectual,  and  sympathizing 
being,  acting  under  the  primary  impulse  of  instinct,  and  without  any 
interference  of  human  culture,  obviously  inclines  to  Utterance,  (throw 
ing  himself  out,)  or,  in  other  words,  to  self-revelation,  as  an  ordained 
function  of  his  nature,  verifying  and  crowning  his  intelligence,  and 
constituting  him  a  social  and  moral  being,  capable  of  progress  and 
of  culture.  He  craves  and  finds  expression,  accordingly,  in  many  and 
various  forms :  he  makes  himself  felt  and  understood,  in  some  way  or 
other,  by  his  fellows.  Under  the  guidance  of  education,  he  but 
learns  to  do  this  more  definitely  and  successfully,  through  lan- 
guage and  expressive  art.  From  a  sentient  and  intelligent,  he  devel- 
ops thus  into  a  communicative  being, — the  result,  so  far,  of  the  com- 
bination of  unconscious  and  voluntary  education,  and,  at  the  same  time, 


76  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE   FACULTIES. 

the  condition  and  the  pledge  of  subsequent  intellectual  and  moral 
progress. 

Repression  a  Common  Error  of  Educational  Training. — The  at- 
tentive observation — not  to  say  the  systematic  study — of  man,  to 
which  the  educator  and  teacher  should  ever  feel  himself  bound,  as  the 
only  security  for  the  intelligent  and  successful  discharge  of  his  duties, 
suggests,  at  this  stage  of  our  subject,  the  fact,  that  a  prominent  fea- 
ture of  error,  in  the  too  prevalent  arbitrary  modes  of  education,  has 
been  the  repression  rather  than  the  development  of  the  natural  desire 
of  utterance  in  childhood. 

From  the  very  first  steps  of  his  mental  and  moral  progress,  man  is 
not  a  merely  selfish  and  receptive  being.  He  longs  to  impart  his 
feelings,  and  to  communicate  his  observations :  he  wishes  to  give,  as  well 
as  to  receive  :  he  feels  impelled  to  utter  himself  that  he  may  impart  and 
confer,  not  less  than  receive.  His  impulse,  as  a  sympathetic  one,  is 
unselfish,  generous,  noble.  When  the  child  exclaims  to  his  play- 
mate on  the  beauty  of  the  flower  which  they  see,  he  does  not  merely 
call  for  sympathy  in  the  delight  which  he  feels  :  he  would,  by  his 
instinctive  expression  of  pleasure,  suggest  and  impart  that  delight. 

Utterance,  under  the  benign  guardianship  of  Nature,  as  its  Author's 
interpreter,  is  thus,  essentially  and  substantially,  a  moral  process,  not 
less  than  a  merely  sympathetic  and  intellectual  one.  Nor,  in  educa- 
tion, should  it  ever  be  forgotten  that,  by  the  Creator's  ordination, 
every  utterance  of  a  feeling  or  an  emotion,  gives  it  additional  strength 
and  life;  and  that,  obeying  the  divinely  instituted  law  of  speech  and 
communication,  we  are  aiding  in  the  process  of  building  up,  day  by 
day,  and  hour  by  hour,  the  fabric  of  human  character. 

Arbitrary  education,  however,  is,  in  no  feature  of  its  meddling 
mismanagement  more  conspicuous  than  in  the  restriction,  the  reserve, 
and  the  silence,  which  it  is  ever  so  prone  to  impose,  and  on  which  it 
is  so  apt  to  plume  itself,  with  reference  even  to  the  very  first  stages 
of  its  repellent  sway. 

The  five  years'  probationary  and  preparatory  silence  which  Pythag- 
oras is  said  to  have  exacted  of  his  disciples,  might  be  an  excellent 
discipline  for  mature  minds,  as  an  introduction  to  the  "  metaphysic 
bog  profound,"  into  which  he  meant  thereafter  to  plunge  them.  But 
one  of  the  first  and  most  urgent  wants  of  childhood  is  utterance. 
The  innocent  little  human  being  is  ever  thus  holding  out  his  petty 
link  in  the  golden  chain  which  binds  heart  to  heart,  mind  to  mind, 
and  man  to  God :  he  is  ever  ready  to  join  his  link  to  that  of  his 
neighbor.  But  the  mechanical  educationist,  with  his  "look  at  your 
book,  arid  not  at  me !"  frowns  the  infant  volunteer  back  to  his  seat, 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  ^ 

to  his  individuality,  and  his  isolation ;  and  the  chain  by  which  the 
little  petitioner  for  sympathy  and  knowledge,  might  have  been  lifted 
with  the  conjoined  force  of  the  mental  world,  is  of  no  avail  to  him  : 
his  link  of  connection  with  it  is  yet  detached.  Llis  turn  has  not  yet 
come,  in  the  great  game  of  opportunity  ]  and  he  must  bide  his  time 
as  best  he  may. 

Appropriate  Training. — Under  the  unerring  and  genial  guidance 
of  the  mother,  the  child  is  not  perpetually  immured  within  doors,  or 
confined  to  one  spot,  or  fixed  in  orte  posture :  he  is  allowed,  occasion- 
ally, at  least,  to  behold  the  outward  world,  to  range  the  fields,  to 
walk  on  the  road,  to  observe  the  objects  around  him,  to  feel  their  at- 
tractive force,  to  admire  their  beauty,  to  wonder  and  to  inquire  about 
what  is  new  to  him,  to  utter  his  exclamations  of  pleasure,  to  examine, 
and  to  name  whatever  strikes  his  attention.  He  thus  enjoys  his  own 
nature  in  the  free  exercise  of  his  faculties ;  he  is  consciously  progress- 
ive in  intelligence  and  in  speech,  as  in  feeling,  and,  so  far,  is  effectually 
and  successfully  preparing  to  become,  in  due  season,  eloquently  ex- 
pressive. 

Disadvantages  of  City  Education. — The  worst,  perhaps,  of  all  the 
many  evils  attending  the  supposed  necessity  of  congregating  in  cities, 
and  adopting  artificial  modes  of  life,  is  one  but  little  thought  of. 
The  parent  who  relinquishes  his  rural  home  in  the  open  village  street 
or  in  the  field,  flatters  himself,  perhaps,  that  he  is  securing  better  edu- 
cational advantages  for  his  children,  when  he  takes  up  his  abode  in 
one  of  the  confined  dwellings  of  the  close-crowded  city.  He  may 
lind,  by  the  exchange,  a  teacher  more  expert  in  turning  the  machin- 
ery of  instruction,  and  a  more  ample  supply  of  the  learning  to  be  had 
from  books.  But  the  nobler,  the  truly  liberal  part  of  his  childrens' 
education,  he  has  foregone  forever.  The  free  scope,  the  pure,  bracing 
air,  the  rich  variety  of  nature, — the  healthful  influence  of  these  on 
the  growing  frame  and  the  expanding  mind,  on  the  susceptible  heart, 
on  the  plastic  imagination,  on  the  whole  soul  and  character ;  these 
are  sacrificed,  and  with  them,  the  best  capabilities  of  culture. 

Educational  Benefits  of  Rural  Life. — In  no  respect  are  the  losses 
just  mentioned  greater  than  in  regard  to  the  part  of  education  which 
we  are  now  contemplating.  To  the  child  reared  in  the  freedom  and 
the  beauty  of  nature,  everything  around  him  becomes  a  language, 
expressing  the  happiness  which  he  unconsciously  enjoys.  His  vocab- 
ulary is  furnished  in  the  forms,  the  colors,  the  life,  the  sounds  and  mo- 
tion, amid  which  he  finds  himself.  The  half-conscious  awe  which  he 
feels,  under  the  deep  shade  and  the  sweeping  boughs  of  the  great 
elm,  through  which  he  looks  up,  with  a  pleasing  dread  and  wonder 


f  g  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

to  the  over-arching  sky,  the  beautiful  wild-flower  which  waves  and 
nods  to  him  as  he  passes,  the  brook  which  runs  bubbling  and  gur- 
gling through  the  meadow,  the  majesty  of  the  flowing  river,  the  roar- 
ing of  the  winter  wind  through  the  bare  trees,  the  whirling  of  the 
snow-flakes,  the  glittering  garment  of  the  ice-storm,  the  opening  of 
the  spring  buds,  the  fluttering  of  the  summer  leaves,  and  the  sailing 
of  the  falling  leaf  in  autumn,  the  enlivening  voices  of  the  domestic 
animals,  the  entrancing  music  of  the  birds; — these,  and  a  thousand 
other  unpaid  teachers,  have  all  been  training  him  in  a  language  true, 
copious,  perfect,  and  inspiring, — compared  to  which,  book-learning  is 
but  as  the  dry  husk  to  the  rich  nutritious  grain. 

Genial  Culture. — To  favor  and  cherish,  not  to  check,  utterance — 
to  elicit,  not  to  repress  expression, — to  multiply,  and  deepen,  and  ex- 
pand, and  fill,  not  to  dry  up,  the  sources  and  reservoirs  of  language ; — 
these  are  the  true  offices  of  education.  The  cultivation  of  the  young 
mind,  taking  a  suggestive  hint  from  the  cultivation  of  the  young  tree, 
should  allow  a  liberal  scope  of  nutrition,  of  growth  and  expansion, 
before  calling  in  the  aid  of  the  pruning  knife.  A  large  part  of  early 
education  should  consist  in  conversation,  in  which  the  pupil  should 
freely  partake,  as  the  natural  means  of  acquiring  accuracy  and  ex- 
pertness,  as  well  as  freedom,  in  expression.  The  tendency  to  write 
and  to  draw,  should  have  full  scope  and  ample  encouragement.  Care 
should  be  taken  to  render  interesting  and  attractive  every  form  of 
exercise  by  which  the  student  may  ultimately  attain  to  the  free,  for- 
cible, and  correct  expression  of  thought.  To  the  various  modes  of 
securing  such  fruits  of  culture,  in  detail,  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
advert  in  the  sequel. 

IV.     RESULT  OF  THE  ACTION    OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE   FACULTIES  : — 
COMMUNICATION. 

The  Power  of  Communication. — In  the  previous  stages  of  our 
present  inquiries,  we  have  been  occupied  with  the  classification  of  the 
powers  of  expression,  their  springs  of  action,  and  the  habitual  ten- 
dency and  direction  of  their  current,  under  the  guidance  of  unassisted 
nature  and  of  education.  The  next  step  in  the  progress  of  investiga- 
tion preliminary  and  introductory  to  the  actual  work  of  express  cul- 
ture, is  the  consideration  of  the  Results  at  which,  whether  by  the 
law  of  natural  development  or  that  of  educational  cultivation,  the 
human  being  arrives,  in  consequence  of  the  exercise  of  his  powers  of 
expression. 

The  immediate  result  of  utterance  is  Communication, — the  impar- 
tation  and  interchange  of  sympathy  or  sentiment,  by  which  man  in- 
spires his  fellow  man  with  the  same  feeling,  affection,  emotion,  passion, 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  79 

thought,  or  sentiment,  which  actuates  himself;  and  which,  as  the  cir- 
cle of  kindred  minds  is  enlarged  by  the  aggregation  of  numbers,  ex- 
tends his  personal  mood  or  mental  condition  throughout  the  sphere 
of  the  community  of  which  he  is  a  member. 

Intellectual  and  Moral  Effects  of  Communication. — The  views, 
the  will,  and  the  power  of  an  individual,  acquire,  through  communi- 
cation, an  ascendency,  it  may  be,  over  a  nation,  or  even  over  the 
whole  civilized  race,  for  successive  ages;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  intellectual  acquisitions,  the  moral  and  spiritual  attainments,  the 
sympathies  and  the  accumulated  resources  of  nations  and  of  ages, 
may  be  brought  to  the  aid  of  the  individual,  through  the  magic 
power  of  language. 

For  good  or  for  evil,  man's  power  of  communication  with  his  fel- 
lows, gives  to  the  aggregated  multitudes  of  a  whole  people,  or  even 
of  the  race,  the  unity  of  purpose,  the  singleness  of  aim,  the  direct- 
ness, the  personal  efficiency,  the  ease  and  the  certainty  of  action  of  a 
single  agent ;  while  it  equally  arms  the  individual  with  the  intellect- 
ual, the  physical,  and  the  moral  force  of  millions.  The  sage,  the 
orator,  the  poet,  the  artist,  the  statesman,  the  warrior,  thus  become 
the  recognized  representatives  of  a  people  or  of  mankind,  to  whom 
communities  and  nations  bow  in  submission  or  in  homage,  and  to 
whose  ascendant  genius  they  render  the  tribute  of  heart  and  hand, 
of  treasure,  or  of  life.  Thus,  too,  the  youth,  in  his  studious  endeav- 
ors to  advance  his  intellectual  and  moral  condition,  has  the  aid  arising 
from  the  experience,  the  counsels,  the  guidance,  and  the  sympathies 
of  the  intelligent  and  the  virtuous  of  every  age  and  nation  which 
possesses  an  accessible  record  of  its  progress ;  and  the  student  whose 
days  have  been  spent  in  strictest  seclusion  and  unremitting  investiga- 
tion, enjoys  the  assurance  that  the  fruits  of  his  solitary  research  and 
strenuous  application  shall  be  gathered  not  by  himself  alone,  but  by 
whatever  enlightened  and  sympathizing  minds,  throughout  the 
world,  and  in  all  subsequent  time,  shall  come  within  his  sphere  of 
communication  by  living  voice  or  written  word. 

Value  of  Communication. — Communication,  as  the  boon  of  lan- 
guage, is  not  to  be  measured  by  its  immediate  results  merely,  as  a 
telegraphic  convenience  for  the  impartation  of  feeling  or  the  convey- 
ance of  thought, — great  as  its  uses,  in  this  relation,  are  to  the  whole 
race.  Language  is  the  vehicle  of  all  knowledge.  Like  the  noble 
ship,  costly  and  valuable  in  itself,  but  yet  more  valuable  in  the  treas- 
ure with  which  it  is  fraught,  it  comes  laden  with  the  accumulations 
of  countless  minds  and  boundless  wealth.  To  measure  its  full  value, 
we  should  have  to  compute  the  number  and  the  worth  of  every 


80  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

acquisition  which  the  mind  has  garnered  up  in  the  records  of  every 
department  of  science  and  literature,  and  thus  rendered  capable  of 
conveyance  from  man  to  man,  and  from  generation  to  generation, 
throughout  the  world. 

V.     EDUCATIONAL  PROCESSES  FOR  THE  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EX- 
PRESSIVE FACULTIES. 

These  may  be  classed  under  the  following  heads:  The  Attentive 
Observation  and  the  Love  of  Nature  ;  the  Study  and  the  Practice  of 
Art;  the  Study  of  Language;  the  Practice  of  Exercises  in  Oral  and 
Written  Expression. 

OMISSIONS  AND  DEFECTS  IN  MODES  OF  CULTURE. — Language. 
— The  plan  of  education  generally  adopted  for  the  exercise  and  disci- 
pline of  the  expressive  faculties,  indicates  little  philosophical  design, 
logical  consistency,  generous  spirit,  or  liberal  scope,  in  the  course 
which  it  prescribes.  It  is  founded  on  views  too  narrow  and  exclu- 
sive;  and  its  execution  has  been  too  mechanical.  The  mothers  and 
the  teacher's  eye  has  been  fastened  too  exclusively  on  the  facts  of 
language  alone,  as  so  many  detached  points  to  be  mastered  in  detail. 
Hence  the  injury  sometimes  done  to  the  organs  of  speech,  by  prema- 
ture attempts  to  conquer  some  of  the  difficulties  of  articulation,  in  the 
mother's  zeal  for  the  precocious  development  of  the  faculties  of  her 
child ;  and  hence,  also,  the  mechanical  and  arbitrary  processes  of 
alphabetic  training,  in  its  customary  forms.  The  eager  desire  for  im- 
mediate definite  results,  has  caused  the  teacher,  too  generally,  to  over- 
look the  great  facts  that  language  is  but  one  of  the  forms  in  which 
the  expressive  faculties  are  exerted,  or  in  which  expressive  power  is 
to  be  developed,  and  that  the  successful  cultivation  of  language  is  in- 
separable from  due  exercise  in  all  the  kindred  forms  of  expression  to 
which  the  mind  naturally  tends. 

The  general  plan  of  education  is  limited  to  instruction  and  prac- 
tice in  the  oral  and  written  forms  of  language,  in  the  school  rou- 
tine of  reading  and  grammar,  and  what  is  termed  composition. 
The  forms  of  exercise  and  the  methods  of  training,  also,  in  these  de- 
partments of  education,  have  too  generally  been  literal  and  mechan- 
ical ;'  and  the  poverty  and  imperfection  of  the  results  have  betrayed 
the  defects  of  the  plan  which  prescribed  them. 

Methods  too  exclusively  Passive  and  Receptive. — The  great  im- 
portance of  a  full  and  generous  development  of  the  whole  mental  con- 
stitution, as  indispensable  to  the  right  action  of  any  of  its  elements, 
having  been  overlooked  in  the  plan  of  education,  due  allowance  has 
too  seldom  been  made,  in  the  training  of  the  mind,  for  the  adequate 
exercise  and  discipline  of  the  active  nature  and  of  the  expressive 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTES.  g^ 

powers  of  the  human  being.  The  general  prescription  of  the  pro- 
cesses of  instruction,  has  evidently  been  directed  to  the  receptive  ac- 
tion of  the  understanding  and  the  imple.ting  of  the  memory.  The 
mind  of  the  pupil  has  been  too  uniformly  kept  in  a  comparatively 
passive  condition.  He  has  not  been  permitted  and  invited  to  use  suf- 
ficiently even  those  materials  of  expression  which  he  has,  from  the 
earliest  steps  of  his  progress,  in  the  routine  of  education,  been  so 
laboriously  employed  in  accumulating.  Expression,  neglected  in 
early  training,  becomes  difficult  in  later  stages;  and  conscious  failure 
incurred  in  attempting  it,  renders  it  distasteful.  Effort,  under  such 
circumstances,  is  reluctantly  made,  frequently  intermitted,  and  ere 
long  discontinued. 

Nenlect  of  our  own  Language. — No  remark  is  more  common 
or  more  true,  than  that  even  our  highest  and  best  courses  of  cul- 
ture do  not  result  in  furnishing  accomplished  men,  as  regards  the 
actual  use,  in  speech  or  writing,  of  our  own  language.  Ample  time, 
comparatively,  is  usually  allowed  for  the  study  of  the  ancient  lan- 
guages, and  even  for  that  of  some  of  the  modern  ;  but  little  is  ex- 
pressly assigned  for  the  thorough  acquisition  of  our  own,  which,  to 
ensure  to  the  student  a  perfect  command  of  it,  should  be  the  ground- 
work of  daily  exercises,  thoughtfully  planned  and  carefully  executed* 
from  the  first  steps  in  education  onward  to  the  last  day  of  professional 
preparation  for  the  business  of  life. 

Faults  of  Unconscious  Teaching. — Some  of  the  many  causes  of 
imperfect  teaching,  in  the  department  of  language,  may  be  found  in 
the  fact,  that  the  true  nature  and  actual  character  of  early  training 
are  not  recognized  by  those  whose  office  it  is  to  superintend  the  first 
steps  of  childhood  in  the  path  of  development.  The  mother  and  the 
primary  teacher  too  often  overlook  the  vast  influence  of  example, 
•which,  to  the  imitative  nature  of  childhood,  always  becomes  a  model. 
Hence  the  imperfect  articulation,  incorrect  pronunciation,  mechanical 
monotony,  and  lifeless  tone,  which  are  so  generally  prevalent  in 
school  reading.  These  faults  are,  too  often,  faithful  copies  of  the 
style  which  the  ear  of  the  young  learner  has  unconsciously  caught 
from  his  mother,  his  teacher,  or  his  class-mates,  and  which  habit 
rivets  on  his  voice,  for  life. 

Error  in  Alphabetic  Instruction. — The  mechanical  manner  in 
which  the  child's  first  lessons  in  reading  are  sometimes  conducted, 
is  another  cause  of  failure,  in  the  department  of  instruction  to  which 
we  now  refer.  In  many  schools,  the  young  pupil  never  has  his  at- 
tention called,  definitely  or  consciously,  to  the  fact  that  the  letters  of 

the  alphabet  are  phonetic  characters,  the  whole  value  of  which  con- 

1  F 


82  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

sists  in  the  sounds  which  they  represent:  in  many,  he  may  pass 
through  the  whole  course  of  instruction  without  being  once  called  to 
practice  the  constituent  elementary  sounds  of  his  own  language :  in 
very  many,  there  is  no  attempt  made  to  exercise  and  develop,  modify, 
or  cultivate,  in  any  form,  the  voice  itself.  Hence  the  prevalence  of 
the  errors  which  have  been  already  mentioned  as  fruits  of  uncon- 
scious imitation,  and  which  careful,  early  cultivation  can  alone  pre- 
vent. 

Neglect  of  the  Meaning  of  Words. — An  obvious  defect  in  preva- 
lent modes  of  education,  as  regards  adequate  preparation  for  the  free 
and  correct  use  of  our  native  language,  is  the  yet  too  common  neg- 
lect of  early  and  progressive  etymological  training  in  the  analysis  of 
words,  and  the  tracing  of  the  significant  value  of  their  component 
syllables,  so  as  to  ascertain  and  fix  in  the  mind  their  exact  meaning 
and  full  power,  and  to  follow  their  transitions  from  a  primary  to  a 
secondary  sense,  or  from  one  which  is  figurative  and  imaginative  to 
one  which  is  purely  intellectual  or  merely  practical.  It  is  such  inti- 
mate knowledge,  and  such  only, — the  fruit  of  daily  exercise  and  careful 
training, — that  can  give,  at  length,  to  the  mature  scholar,  or  the  pro- 
fessional speaker,  that  mastery  of  words,  which  now  so  often,  when 
almost  too  late,  he  feels  that  he  needs  for  the  full  and  perfect  express- 
ion of  his  thoughts. 

Defective  Forms  of  Reading  Exercises. — A  common  and  marked 
failure  of  education,  as  regards  the  course  of  instruction  in  reading, 
is  partly  attributable  to  the  cause  last  mentioned, — the  unintelligent 
enunciation  of  words, — but  largely,  also,  to  the  mechanical  perusal  and 
unmeaning  pronunciation  of  sentences,  as  merely  so  many  successions  of 
audible  sounds.  Such  exercises  deaden  rather  than  enliven  the  powers 
of  expression,  as  they  blunt  rather  than  sharpen  the  understanding,  for 
the  intelligent  conception  of  meaning.  Yet,  in  not  a  few  schools  is  it 
the  fact,  that  even  quite  young  pupils  are  never  asked,  in  performing  a 
reading  exercise,  to  point  out,  previous  to  the  pronouncing  of  a  sen- 
tence, those  words  in  it  which  are  most  significant  or  expressive,  and 
accordingly  require  that  special  force  or  turn  of  utterance,  which 
alone  can  render  them  emphatic,  so  as  to  convey  their  full  sense,  or 
bring  out  the  whole  sentiment  which  the  sentence  was  framed  to  ex- 
press. A  similar  neglect  is  too  prevalent  as  regards  the  effect  of 
proper  pauses  in  reading,  which  should  always  suggest  to  the  ear  an 
intelligent  analysis  of  a  sentence  into  its  constituent  portions  of  sense, 
not,  as  is  very  frequently  the  case,  a  mechanical  analysis,  servilely 
following  the  grammatical  punctuation  with  measured  uniformity  of 
utterance,  whatever  be  the  depth  of  thought,  or  the  force  of  feeling, 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  83 

implied  in  the  language  of  the  composition.  As  the  syntactical  punc- 
tuation, although  it  may  often  coincide  with  the  expressive  and  signifi- 
cant rhetorical  pausing,  does  not  necessarily  do  so,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  sometimes  directly  at  variance  with  it,  the  effect  of  uniformly 
following  the  points,  must,  in  such  cases,  be  a  positive  hindrance  rath- 
er than  a  help  to  intelligible  or  appropriate  reading,  as  an  exercise 
of  voice.  The  utterance  of  the  common  phrases,  "  Yes,  sir,"  or  "  No, 
sir,"  will  furnish  sufficient  illustration  here.  The  comma  preceding 
the  word  tt  sir,"  is  due  to  the  eye,  on  the  score  of  syntax,  but  not  to 
the  ear  or  the  voice,  on  that  of  sense. 

It  is  in  the  audible  reading  of  poetry,  however,  that  the  defects  of 
current  education  are  most  strikingly  exhibited,  as  regards  the  disci- 
pline of  the  expressive  faculties.  Poetry,  as  the  language  of  imag- 
ination and  feeling,  speaking  to  the  heart,  properly  requires  a  mode 
of  reading  obviously  quite  different  from  that  of  the  usual  forms  of 
plain  didactic  prose,  addressed  to  the  understanding  merely.  The 
word-pictures  of  the  poet  paint  their  imagery  on  the  imagination  ;  the 
intellect  interprets  their  forms ;  the  heart  beats  in  response  to  the 
graphic  delineation ;  and  the  voice  gives  expression  to  a  correspon- 
dent melody  of  tone,  while  it  utters  the  words  of  the  verse.  To  read 
poetry  aright,  therefore,  implies  the  poet's  inspiration,  imparted  to 
the  soul  and  voice  of  the  reader, — an  exalted  state  of  imagination,  a 
sympathetic  vividness  of  feeling,  unconscious  quickness  and  acuteness 
of  intellectual  conception,  a  plastic  voice  and  expressive  tone.  An 
appropriate  course  of  preparatory  discipline  of  feeling  and  imagina- 
tion, is  obviously,  then,  as  indispensable  to  poetic  utterance,  as  the 
right  understanding  of  the  intellectual  sense  of  a  sentence,  is  to  the 
ordinary  reading  of  prose.  For  this  purpose,  every  grand  or  beauti- 
ful form  of  nature  or  of  expressive  art  to  which  he  can  resort,  with  a 
view  to  give  susceptibility  to  feeling  and  imagination  or  pleasure  to 
taste,  now  becomes,  in  the  hands  of  the  intelligent  teacher,  an  instru- 
ment of  power,  to  aid  him  in  the  processes  of  culture.  Now  is  the 
time  when  he  feels  how  deeply  he  must  ever  be  indebted  to  the  vivi- 
fying influence  of  music,  painting,  and  sculpture,  and  every  chaste 
form  of  decorative  art,  as  the  effective  means  of  opening  the  eye  of 
the  soul  to  the  vision  of  grandeur  or  of  beauty,  firing  the  heart  with 
the  ardor  of  inspiration,  touching  it  with  the  sense  of  tenderness 
and  love,  and  refining  the  taste  by  the  display  of  true  elegance  and 
grace. 

The  dry,  prosaic,  lifeless  style  in  which  poetry  is  too  generally  read 
in  our  schools,  is  more  injurious  than  beneficial,  not  merely  to  the  fac- 
ulties more  immediately  concerned  in  the  conception  or  utterance  of 


84  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

poetic  composition,  but  to  the  action  and  influence  of  all  those  pow- 
ers, mental  and  moral,  which  tend  to  elevate  and  refine  the  soul,  and 
mould  the  character  to  the  highest  forms  of  excellence.  There  is 
something  akin  to  the  barrenness  of  spirit  with  which  the  sceptic  pe- 
ruses a  page  of  sacred  scripture,  in  the  utterly  mechanical  manner  in 
which  the  well-drilled  pupil  in  mathematics  or  in  grammar,  is  some- 
times permitted  to  read  strains  of  the  purest  poetry,  embodying  the 
sublimest  sentiments,  and  calling  for  tones  of  the  deepest  and  most 
vivid  emotion,  or  even  of  the  most  exalted  passion. 

The  general  neglect  of  appropriate  means  for  cherishing  sensibility 
and  cultivating  taste,  in  the  relation  now  referred  to,  is  the  more  to 
be  regretted  that  it  prevails  most  in  that  form  of  education  and  in 
that  class  of  schools  in  which  it  tells  with  the  deepest  effect : — I  refer 
to  our  common  modes  of  mental  cultivation,  and  to  those  seminaries 
in  which  the  mass  of  our  people  are  trained.  The  recuperative  influ- 
ences of  classical  culture,  in  our  higher  literary  institutions,  does 
something  to  redeem,  in  this  respect,  the  omissions  and  the  detects  of 
earlier  training.  But  it  is  much  to  be  feared  that,  even  in  our  boast- 
ed New  England  education,  as  generally  conducted,  the  young  who 
are  to  receive  no  such  remedial  aid  for  disproportioned  and  defective 
cultivation,  close  their  school  course  without  the  benefit  of  a  single 
effort,  on  the  part  of  instructors,  to  render  their  pupils  capable  of  ap- 
preciating or  expressing  the  sentiments  embodied  in  the  best  passages 
of  our  own  literature  and  that  of  the  parent  land, — a  literature  which 
contains  confessedly  more  of  the  inspiring  elements  of  pure  morality 
and  noble  character,  as  well  as  genuine  beauty,  than  any  that  has  yet 
appeared  ou  earth ;  not  excepting  even  the  model  languages  of 
classic  antiquity. 

Instruction  in  Grammar. — It  is  but  of  late  that  those  who  pre- 
scribe the  forms  of  education  or  the  modes  of  instruction,  have  fur- 
nished the  working  teacher  with  the  means  of  rational  and  philosophic 
training  for  his  pupils,  in  another  department  of  culture  professedly 
occupied  with  the  discipline  of  the  expressive  faculties,  but,  in  past 
years,  so  formally  conducted,  for  the  most  part,  as  to  embarrass  and 
retard  rather  than  aid  the  progress  of  development.  A  great  change, 
unquestionably,  has  -taken  place  in  the  character  of  text-books  on 
Grammar ;  and  in  this  branch  of  instruction  we  have  recently  been 
provided  with  valuable  facilities  for  improvement,  in  several  excellent 
treatises,  well  suited  to  the  true  uses  of  a  text-book, — not  a  synthetic 
synopsis  of  the  science  as  it  lies  in  the  mind  of  the  consummate  gram- 
marian, but  a  gradually  progressive  and  practical  presentation  of  the 
subject,  from  its  simplest  elements  upward,  in  a  course,  at  the  sarna 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  85 

time,  so  strictly  logical,  that  every  step  leads,  by  a  law  of  thought,  to 
another,  and  so  thoroughly  practical,  that, — to  use  the  not  inapt 
expression  of  a  German  instructor  visiting  one  of  our  American 
schools, — the  pupil  is  made,  at  every  step,  to  "  experience  grammar." 

Defective  Methods. — Still,  too  many  of  our  teachers  cling  to  the 
narrow  practice  of  following,  in  every  grammar  lesson,  the  order  of  a 
synthetic  text-book,  in  which  the  subject  is  admirably  arranged  for  a 
systematic  and  philosophic  review  of  the  science,  but  by  no  means 
for  the  successive  steps  of  progress  to  the  young  mind  commencing 
the  study  of  it.  The  method  of  such  text-books  is  precisely  that 
which  must  be  inverted  in  all  true,  living,  oral  instruction,  or  in  any 
rational  attempt  to  introduce  a  learner  to  a  knowledge  of  the  subject, 
and  to  guide  him  in  his  first  endeavors  to  reduce  it  to  practice  in  illus- 
trative forms  of  exercise.  The  logic  of  instruction  requires  that  the 
whole  science  of  grammar  should  be  first  subjected  to  a  rigorous  an- 
alysis in  the  teacher's  own  mind,  that  its  elements  may  be  exhibited 
individually  and  successively  to  that  of  the  pupil,  and  so  become  the 
groundwork  of  his  inductive  and  intelligent  progress  from  the  recog- 
nition of  facts  to  that  of  principles  and  laws.  The  practical  part  of 
the  instructor's  business,  requires,  in  this,  as  in  all  other  branches,  a 
strict  compliance  with  the  rule  of  presenting  one  element  only  at  a 
time,  but  in  such  succession  as  to  develop  the  whole  subject  in  easy 
steps  of  connected  progress, — each  perfectly  understood  and  thor- 
oughly exemplified  ;  nothing  assumed,  but  everything  proved  ;  noth- 
ing merely  defined  without  being  reduced  to  practice. 

The  Practice  of  Composition. — Till  very  recently,  in  comparison, 
no  branch  of  education  connected  so  immediately  with  the  discipline 
of  the  expressive  faculties,  has  been  more  faultily  conducted  than 
this.  Without  waiting  for  the  development  and  efficient  action  of 
the  reflective  faculties,  or  the  power  of  abstract  conception  and  gen- 
eral thought,  the  teacher,  when  he  has  conducted  his  pupils  through 
a  very  imperfect  course  of  grammar  and  mechanical  "  parsing,"  and, 
perhaps,  a  little  technical  rhetoric,  proceeds  to  prescribe  a  task  in  com- 
position, on  p,ome  general  theme  requiring  the  thoughts  of  a  mature 
and  capacious  mind,  besides  the  command  of  a  skillful  pen,  for  its 
proper  treatment. 

Results  of  Defective  Methods  of  Teaching. — Called  thus,  without 
means,  to  perform  a  task  which  leads  him  entirely  away  from  the  re- 
gion in  which  his  mind  naturally  and  habitually  works,— the  concrete 
world  of  actual  observation  and  of  clear  conception  or  conscious  feel- 
ing,— the  pupil  finds  himself  unable  to  do  what  is  required  of  him  as 
a  personal  effort.  In  these  circumstances,  if  he  does  not  actually 


86  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

shirk  the  task  imposed  on  him,  he  has  no  resort  but  to  repeat  the 
commonplace  thoughts  and  sayings  of  others,  in  which  he  feels  no 
interest,  and  which,  to  his  consciousness,  have  no  truth.  The  precious 
moments  of  youth  are  thus  worse  than  wasted ;  the  expressive  facul- 
ties are  withered  and  dried  up ;  and  education,  thus  misdirected, 
destroys  the  powers  which  it  was  employed  to  cherish. 

Advantages  of  Seasonable  Training. — Teachers  who  take  the  pains 
to  observe  well,  know  that  there  is  a  stage  in  the  life  of  childhood, 
when  expression  is  a  spontaneous  tendency  and  a  delight, — when  to 
construct  a  sentence  on  his  slate,  or  pencil  a  little  note  on  paper,  is  to 
the  miniature  "  ambitious  student,"  a  conscious  achievement  and  a 
triumph  of  power.  Then  is  the  happy  moment  for  beginning  the 
work  of  practice,  which,  if  neglected  at  that  stage,  will  never  be 
easily,  naturally,  or  effectively  done  afterward.  The  attempt  may  be 
made  at  a  later  period,  under  the  influence  of  a  sense  of  duty,  or  a 
feeling  of  shame,  or  the  consciousness  of  compulsion.  But,  by  this  time, 
the  plastic  suppleness  and  pliancy  of  the  mind  is  gone;  and  the  whole 
endeavor  proves  an  affair  of  difficulty  and  dislike. '  The  teacher's  pol- 
icy is  never  to  let  the  moment  come  when  composition,  whether  in 
the  form  of  note  or  letter,  or  narrative,  or  description,  is  felt  to  be 
anything  else  than  a  pleasure  and  a  privilege.  The  expression  of  sen- 
timent, and  the  argument  for  an  opinion,  will  then,  become  as  easy, 
as  natural,  and  as  pleasurable  employment,  as  the  first  steps  of  con- 
scious progress,  in  the  penning  of  a  juvenile  note  or  letter. 

Rhetoric. — The  great  defect  in  conducting  this  branch  of  educa- 
tion,— a  defect  which  is  still  very  prevalent, — consists  in  the  fact  that 
the  study  of  it  is  so  much  a  matter  of  theoretic  speculation  on  prin- 
ciples of  taste,  or  is  limited  to  the  mere  committing  of  rules  to  .mem- 
ory. Rhetoric,  to  become  a  useful  branch  of  modern  education, 
should  embrace  a  gradually  progressive  course  of  exercises,  embody- 
ing successively  the  facts  of  language,  in  the  use  of  words  and  the 
construction  of  sentences ;  it  should  include  the  practice  of  daily 
writing,  for  successive  years ;  frequent  exercises  in  the  logical  arrang- 
ing of  thought  for  the  purposes  of  expression,  and  the  adapting  of 
the  forms  and  character  of  expression  to  thought ;  and  it  should  be 
accompanied  by  the  close  study  and  critical  analysis  of  the  works  of 
distinguished  writers,  with  a  view  to  acquire  a  perfect  mastery  over 
every  form  of  style. 

Elocution :  Errors  in  Modes  of  Instruction. — Few  branches  of 
education  are  so  little  understood  or  rightly  practiced  as  this.  We 
have,  in  our  current  modes  of  instruction,  little  choice  between  the 
*aults  of  style  arising  from  what  the  indolent  incline  to  term  "a 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE   EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  Q7 

generous  neglect,"  through  fear  of  "spoiling  "  what  they  claim  as 
41  nature,"  and  those  faults,  on  the  other  hand,  which  are  attributable 
to  literal  and  mechanical  modes  of  cultivation,  and  consist  in  the  ob- 
trusion of  arbitrary  details  and  artificial  forms.  Hence  the  results 
which  characterize  the  one,  in  the  gross  errors  of  slovenly  and  low 
habit,  coarse  and  disgusting  manner,  uncouth  effect,  bawling  vehe- 
mence, and  gesticulating  violence,  of  what  is  sometimes  dignified 
with  the  name  of  "popular  oratory ;"  and  hence  the  opposite  traits  of 
finical  taste,  affected  elegance,  false  refinement,  and  studied  contri- 
vances of  effect,  which  belong  to  perverted  culture. 

Errors  in  Theory. — With  the  advocates  of  neglect,  the  true  teach- 
er, as  a  believer  in  the  value  of  cultivation,  can  have  little  sympathy, 
further  than  in  the  condemnation  of  false  and  artificial  manner.  Neg- 
lect of  culture,  he  knows  well,  produces,  in  regard  to  all  expressive 
art,  the  same  obvious  faults  of  rawness  and  in  appropriateness,  awk- 
wardness and  error.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted,  however,  that  the 
language  of  some  eminent  writers,  in  their  anxiety  to  protest  against 
the  errors  of  mechanical  and  literal  training,  gives  countenance  to 
the  claims  of  ignorance  on  this  subject,  and  seems  to  sanction  the 
utter  neglect  of  cultivation.  Prominent  among  these  it  is  to  be  re- 
gretted that  we  find  an  authority  otherwise  so  justly  eminent  as  Dr. 
Whately,  whose  own  brilliant  talents  and  ready  power  of  expression, 
while  they  tend  to  give  him  an  ascendency  over  the  minds  of  stu- 
dents and  teachers,  are  perhaps  the  very  circumstances  which  dis- 
qualify him  to  form  a  true  judgment  on  the  modes  of  cultivation 
best  adapted  to  the  great  majority  of  minds  which  fall  under  the  care 
of  the  teacher,  in  the  common  routine  of  education.  The  error, — if 
one  may  be  pardoned  the  term, — by  which  ingenious  minds  are,  on 
this  subject  sometimes  entirely  misled  by  superficial  observation  and 
hasty  conclusions,  is  that  of  overlooking  the  great  fact  that,  in  the 
cultivation  of  any  branch  of  expressive  art,  education  is  properly 
charged  with  a  double  duty, — that  of  aiding,  by  every  favoring  influ- 
ence, the  inward  power  of  conception,  and  that  of  watching  over  the 
outward  form  of  expression.  In  the  former  function,  education  is 
spiritual,  genial,  inspiring,  intellectual,  in  its  suggestions  :  in  the  latter, 
its  office  is  formative  and  exterior ;  it  watches,  with  the  nicety  of  a 
musician's  ear  and  a  painter's  eye,  over  every  point  of  detail,  and  as- 
siduously trains  every  organ  of  the  pupil  to  exactness,. as  the  law  of 
truth,  extending  to  the  minutest  effect  of  vocal  utterance  and  visible 
action.  True  culture,  in  this  relation,  aims  at  a  perfect  result,  and 
descends,  therefore,  to  the  moulding  of  every  detail. 

The  necessary  Union  of  Theory  and  Practice  in  Teaching. — It  is 


88  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

a  great  error  to  suppose  that,  in  doing  its  practical  work,  education 
must  do  it  in  a  narrow  and  servile  spirit,  or  in  a  merely  mechanical 
form.  Genuine  instruction,  in  its  minutest  direction,  recognizes  and 
impresses  a  principle  which  prompts  the  preference  of  one  form  of 
expression  to  another ;  and  it  takes  care  to  deepen  the  impression  of 
the  principle  by  means  of  the  associated  art  in  practice.  Faithful 
teaching  must  always  extend  to  details.  There  is  no  slighting  or 
slovening  in  its  work.  The  difference  between  true  and  false  instruc- 
tion, in  all  art,  is  simply  this  :  the  former  in  prescribing  a  rule,  refers 
to  the  parent  principle  from  which  it  is  derived,  and  thus  makes 
instruction  logical ;  the  latter  lays  down  the  rule  as  a  detached  and 
arbitrary  fact  of  mere  inculcation,  and  thus  renders  instruction  em- 
pirical and  mechanical.  The  skillful  teacher  knows  how,  in  inculca- 
ting the  closest  application  to  detail,  to  keep  the  mind  intent  on  the 
principle  which  suggests  it.  No  error  in  educational  training  can  be 
greater  than  that  of  shrinking  from  or  shunning  particulars,  under 
the  plea  of  generalizing.  In  all  matters  of  expressive  art,  principle 
must  be  developed  and  applied  in  practice. 

Necessity  of  Detail. — The  right  expression  of  a  sentiment  by 
voice  and  action,  like  every  other  external  act  of  mind  and  organ, 
has  necessarily  a  mode  and  a  form,  coextensive  with  the  words  in 
which  it  is  embodied  ;  and  neither  teacher  nor  student  can  afford  to 
dispense  with  one  element  of  the  true  effect.  The  attention,  there- 
fore, must  be  directed  to  the  study  and  observation,  "  analytically,  of 
the  emphasis,  tones,  pauses,  <fcc./'  unless  we  are  willing  to  neglect  the 
proper  effect  of  these  on  speech.  If  we  can  not  communicate  senti- 
ment without  a  due  observance  of  these,  they  must  evidently  be 
studied,  more  or  less,  according  to  their  value  and  importance  ;  and 
the  very  office  of  instruction  is,  in  all  such  cases,  patiently  to  descend 
to  the  study  and  practice  of  detail. 

Yet  Dr.  Whately,  in  his  Elements  of  Rhetoric,  asserts  that  the  an- 
alytic study  of  detail,  in  such  matters,  "  must  vitiate  every  system 
of  instruction  founded  upon  it."  For  this  conclusion,  fortunately, 
however,  he  gives  no  reason  but  what  is  contained  in  the  brief  phrase, 
"  according  to  my  views/'  and  adds,  further,  the  saving  clause,  "  if 
those  views  be  correct.''  A  true  and  efficient  friend  of  education,  in 
other  respects,  thus  sides  with  the  opponents  of  culture,  by  speaking 
from  the  preferences  of  personal  taste  and  arbitrary  opinion,  instead 
of  the  laws  of  analogy  and  universal  truth. 

In  most  Anglo-Saxon  communities,  the  teacher  of  elocution  re- 
ceives his  pupils  encrusted, — one  might  say, — with  the  errors  of  neg- 
lected or  corrupted  habit,  unconsciously  contracted  from  the  current 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  g9 

faults  of  his  home,  his  early  school,  the  street,  the  local  style  of  his 
vicinity,  or  that  of  some  popular  public  speaker.  The  eradication  of 
these  errors  is  obviously  the  first  duty  of  an  instructor.  But,  accor- 
ding to  the  views  of  Dr.  Whately,  the  instructor  must  not  put  forth 
his  hand  to  touch  such  faults ;  for  this  could  not  be  done  without 
incurring  the  evil  of  entering  into  **  analytic  details  of  emphasis,  tones, 
pauses,  &c."  The  fabric  of  education,  in  this  as  in  all  other  depart- 
ments, resembles  the  well  constructed  edifice,  liberally  and  scientific- 
ally planned,  symmetrically  proportioned,  and  thoroughly  finished  in 
detail.  The  outside  observers  of  the  processes  of  instruction, — 
among  whom  Dr.  Whately,  for  the  time,  takes  his  position, — are 
quite  willing  that  the  intellectual  structure  should  be  a  goodly  man- 
sion, on  the  whole,  but  insist  on  the  notion  that  it  shall  be  built 
without  any  detail  of  wood,  stone,  or  brick,  in  particular. 

"Natural  Advantages" — In  the  act  of  utterance,  the  glance  of  gen- 
ius may  suffice,  at  times,  for  the  intuitive  recognition  of  a  principle ; 
and  the  empassioned  impulse  of  artistic  temperament,  may  prompt  to 
instantaneous  and  perfect  expression.  The  possessor  of  such  attri- 
butes may,  on  exciting  occasions,  dispense  with  reflective  thought  and 
studious  application  as  securities  for  success  in  utterance.  But  the 
majority  of  mankind,  whether  in  youth  or  maturity,  consciously  and 
habitually  need  all  the  aids  of  Analysis  and  study,  and  are  successful 
in  proportion  to  the  closeness  of  their  application  and  the  thorough- 
ness of  their  practice.  The  aid,  in  such  circumstances,  to  be  render- 
ed by  the  intelligent  and  faithful  teacher,  is  precisely  that  work  of  de- 
tail to  which  Dr.  Whately  objects.  The  student,  through  inadverten- 
cy, overlooks,  for  example,  the  true  and  appropriate  manner  of  express- 
ion in  solemn  emotion ;  and,  in  the  utterance  of  a  passage  of  that 
character,  runs  on,  through  the  influence  of  neglected  habit,  in  a  high, 
loud,  and  rapid  voice.  Here,  the  mechanical  teacher  will,  of  course, 
rectify  the  error,  for  the  moment,  by  merely  exemplifying  the  proper 
style,  and  making  the  pupil  repeat  in  imitation  of  the  model,  but 
with  no  explanation,  and  with  no  reference  of  any  point  to  a  fixed 
principle  which  might  be  a  guide  in  future  practice.  The  true  teacher, 
— who  never  can  rest  satisfied  with  anything  merely  mimetic  or  par- 
rot-like,— when  he  indicates  errors,  endeavors  to  correct  them  by  re- 
ferring his  pupil  to  the  principle  from  which  they  deviate.  He  inter- 
rogates him  in  this  case  as  to  the  true  and  natural  style  of  voice  in 
which  solemn  emotion  is  uttered,  and  directs  his  attention  successively 
to  the  facts  that  it  is  characterized  by  tones  which  are  compara- 
tively low,  soft,  and  slow, — as  heard  in  the  natural  and  appropriate 
utterance  of  devotional  feeling.  Teacher  and  pupil  have  thus  a  defi 


90  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

n:te  aim  and  an  intelligent  course  before  them  in  the  reiterated  prac- 
tice which  may  be  required  for  the  correction  of  error,  and  a  guiding 
light  to  direct  them  in  all  similar  difficulties  which  may  occur  in  sub- 
sequent exercises.  In  this  department  of  education,  as  well  as  in 
others,  true  instruction  is  nothing  else  than  the  exposition  of  a  prin- 
ciple along  with  an  analytical  application  of  it.  Yet  this  is  the  very 
mode  of  procedure  which  Dr.  Whately  condemns,  when  he  objects  so 
decidedly  to  that  method  of  elocutionary  training  which  calls  the 
attention  of  the  student  first  to  the  prominent  vocal  effects  of  an 
emotion,  and  then  descends  to  the  particulars  of  expression  in  "  em- 
phasis, pauses,  &c." 

The  errors  of  theory,  regarding  this  department  of  education,  have 
been  dwelt  on  longer  than  might  have  otherwise  been  necessary,  were 
it  not  for  the  proneness  of  those  who  superintend  and  control  the 
forms  of  instruction,  to  defer  to  the  authority  of  distinguished  names, 
and  to  discourage  the  well  directed  efforts  of  the  teacher.  The  mode 
in  which  reading  is  taught,  or  elocution  practiced,  in  the  successive 
stages  of  education,  has  a  greater  effect  on  mental  and  moral  devel- 
opment, than  any  other  branch  of  instruction  :  it  affects  not  only  the 
intelligence,  but  the  taste,  the  habits,  and  the  whole  character  of  the 
mind.  To  the  young  teacher,  therefore,  it  is  exceedingly  important 
that  his  views  on  the  subject  be  clear  and  correct. 

The  practice  of  Gesture. — The  visible  part  of  elocution, — express- 
ive action, — is  another  subject  on  which  the  errors  of  theory  and 
practice  are  numerous  and  great.  They  consist  chiefly,  however,  in 
intentional  or  unconscious  neglect,  on  the  one  hand,  and  mechanical 
cultivation,  on  the  other.  The  former  cause  of  faulty  habit  appears 
in  inexpressive,  unmeaning,  and  inappropriate  forms  of  bodily  action, 
in  insignificant  tricks  of  personal  habit,  or  in  excessive  and  violent 
gesticulation,  accompanied  by  awkward  and  uncouth  attitudes:  the 
latter  shows  itself  in  unnatural,  affected,  or  fantastic  gestures  and  posi- 
tions. The  expressive  actions  which  naturally  and  properly  belong 
to  public  address  on  subjects  which  call  forth  emotion,  being  larger 
and  more  forcible  than  those  which  belong  to  the  habitual  style  of 
private  conversation,  it  is  of  great  service,  in  the  training  of  youth, 
that,  in  addition  to  all  the  healthful  aids  arising  from  manly  exercises 
and  enlivening  sports,  there  should  be  a  daily  course  of  training  on 
the  principal  forms  of  oratorical  action,  with  a  view  to  ensure  force, 
and  freedom,  and  propriety  of  manner,  as  regards  the  natural  lan- 
guage of  attitude  and  action.  This  language  has  its  principles  for 
the  guidance  of  the  teacher  and  the  student  as  well  as  the  artist. 
The  attentive  investigation  of  these  principles  is  the  only  source  of 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  91 

true  and  liberal  instruction  or  useful  study.  From  these  principles 
rules  for  application  necessarily  flow ;  and  it  depends  on  the  teacher 
and  the  student  whether  the  latter  shall  be  well  and  skillfully  trained, 
neglected,  or  superficially  taught. 

Artistic  Cultivation  of  Taste. — Provision  is  formally  made,  in 
many  seminaries,  for  a  more  liberal  allowance  of  cultivation  for  the 
expressive  faculties,  than  is  afforded  in  the  mere  learning  to  read,  in 
the  study  of  grammar  and  rhetoric,  or  in  the  practice  of  composition 
and  elocution.  The  demands  of  Taste  are  recognized  and  complied 
with,  so  far  as  regards  a  certain  measure  of  instruction  in  music  and 
drawing.  But,  in  very  many  seminaries,  the  little  arbitrary  and  im- 
perfect instruction  which  is  given  in  these  branches,  is  too  frequently 
much  worse  than  none ;  unless  we  are  willing  to  recognize  the  form- 
ing of  bad  taste  in  either  art  as  an  admissible  service  of  education. 

Lessons  in  Drawing :  Common  Mistake. — Many  parents  and  teach- 
ers never  bestow  a  thought  on  the  true  character  or  proper  uses  of 
art,  as  a  means  of  mental  culture,  or  as  a  practical  accomplishment, 
but  labor  under  the  false  notion  that  a  little  dabbling  in  it,  under  a 
very  ordinary  instructor,  is  at  least  something  gained  toward  refine- 
ment of  taste  and  graceful  habit.  There  can  not  be  a  greater  error 
committed  in  education  than  this.  Every  attempt  to  copy  an  imper- 
fect model,  brings  down  the  tone  of  taste,  and  does  something  to  hin- 
der the  attainment  of  excellence.  Neglect  is  wholesome,  when  com*- 
pared  with  perversion  or  with  false  instruction. 

"My  daughter,"  says  an  affectionate  mother, k'  wishes  to  learn  draw- 
ing ;  and  Mr.  T31ank  is  getting  up  a  class ;  and  I  think  I  shall  let  her  join. 
Mr.  Blank's  drawing  is  no  great  things,  to  be  sure.  But  a  little  no- 
tion of  drawing  can  do  my  daughter  no  harm,  at  least ;  and,  per- 
haps, she  may  take  a  liking  for  it ;  and  then  she  can  find  a  better 
teacher,  when  it  will  be  worth  while  to  have  one."  Here  are  the  com- 
mon errors, — that  there  is  any  benefit  in  a  little  poor  or  bad  art,  or  that 
any  speck  of  it  is  not  a  positive  blemish  ;  that  the  elements  of  art 
can  be  taught  by  an  incompetent  teacher;  and  that,  after  having 
taste  thus  perverted,  the  pupil  can  rally,  acquire  new  principles,  and 
form  new  habits.  The  actual  experience  of  most  pupils  thus  misdi- 
rected, is  the  painful  conviction  that,  without  a  perfect  command  of 
elements,  nothing  whatever  can  be  done  in  art,  and  that  every  neg- 
lected false  line  or  touch,  in  rudimental  lessons,  is  sure  to  injure  the 
habits  of  eye  and  hand,  in  all  subsequent  execution,  besides  lowering 
the  standard  of  excellence,  and  degrading  the  taste  of  the  student. 

Music:  Singing. — An  error  similar  to  that  just  mentioned,  pre- 
vails with  regard  to  instruction  and  practice  in  music, — more  partic- 


92  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

ularly,  in  instrumental  music.  The  vocal  department,  however,  is 
not  without  its  many  evils  of  erroneous  conception  and  faulty  instruc- 
tion. Singing,  by  the  formal  manner  in  which  it  is  sometimes  taught, 
becomes  one  of  the  listless  tasks  which  the  juvenile  pupil  is  com- 
pelled to  perform  in  the  routine  of  school  duty,  instead  of  being  one 
of  the  natural  enjoyments  and  welcome  recreations  of  daily  life,  in 
which  intellectual  activity  is  accompanied  by  pleasing  emotion  and 
free  expression.  The  young  learner,  who  should  be  permitted  to 
enter  at  once  on  the  pleasure  of  listening  to  pure  and  perfect  strains 
of  actual  music,  and  then  to  join  in  the  attempt  to  execute  them,  in 
the  natural  training  of  ear  and  voice,  is  commonly  detained  for  a  long 
course  of  drilling  on  technical  terms  and  arbitrary  rules.  Music  is 
thus  rendered  a  tasteless,  irksome,  artificial  exercise  to  the  pupil,  and 
fails  of  accomplishing  its  main  objects  of  quickening  the  ear,  enlivening 
the  feelings,  moulding  the  voice,  and  cultivating  the  taste,  by  the  in- 
fluence of  pure  and  beautiful  examples  of  vocal  sound,  in  the  express- 
ion of  feelinof  and  sentiment. 

O 

Demoralizing  Influence  of  Low  Taste. — The  result  is  still  more 
injurious  when  low  taste  is  permitted  to  obtrude  its  degrading  influ- 
ences on  the  sacred  sphere  of  music ;  when  song  is  treated  as  merely 
a  form  of  amusement  or  of  sport,  and  when  the  corrupting  effects  of 
gross  humor  and  ridiculous  caricature,  are  intentionally  introduced  in 
the  lessons  of  an  art  designed  to  purify  and  elevate  the  soul.  When 
to  such  influences  there  is  added  the  express  utterance  of  degrading 
and  demoralizing  sentiment,  in  the  words  of  a  piece  of  music  selected 
for  a  school  exercise,  the  work  of  the  enemy  who  sows  tares  in  the 
field,  is  fully  accomplished ;  and  education  lends  its  hand  to  the  act 
of  helping  the  young  mind  not  upward  but  positively  downward. 

Deficient  and  Faulty  Instruction. — When  the  grosser  evils  which, 
have  been  mentioned,  are  avoided,  there  are  not  unfrequently  others, 
quite  serious  in  effect,  arising  from  the  influence  of  imperfect  cultiva- 
tion and  false  taste  in  the  teacher,  or  in  the  community  of  which  the 
pupil  is  a  member.  Inaccurate,  slovenly,  and  heedless  execution  de- 
feats all  the  purposes  of  musical  cultivation,  and  renders  the  absence 
of  culture  preferable  to  the  possession  of  it.  Every  repetition  of  a 
fault  confirms  an  error  of  perception,  a  perversion  of  feeling,  or  a  cor- 
ruption of  taste,  and  deepens  it  into  a  vice  of  habit  and  a  defect  in 
mental  character. 

Instrumental  Music. — The  more  laborious  forms  of  culture  which 
are  indispensable  to  success  in  the  performance  of  instrumental  mu- 
sic, strike  yet  deeper  into  the  taste  and  tendencies  of  the  mind,  as 
regards  the  character  and  effects  of  expression.  Faults  in  this 


CULTIVATION   OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  93 

department  of  musical  instruction,  are,  it  is  true,  not  so  widely  diffused 
as  those  which  are  so  often  displayed  in  the  teaching  of  vocal  music. 
But  they  are  not  less  prejudicial  to  the  pupil  individually.  The  in- 
cessant and  arduous  application  which  is  required  of  all  who  wish  to 
perform  successfully  on  any  instrument,  exhausts  and  discourages 
pupils  who  have  not  a  true  and  deep  love  of  music,  together  with  the 
enduring  physical  vigor  and  muscular  power  which  consummate  exe- 
cution demands.  The  attempt  to  continue  practice,  under  such  dis- 
advantages, is  more  injurious  than  beneficial ;  and  when  the  pupil  is 
dragged  through  the  daily  infliction,  the  whole  course  ends  in  that 
miserable  failure  over  whose  multitude  of  sins  the  false  charity  of 
society  is  so  often  called  to  throw  its  mantle.  In  music,  as  in  every 
other  form  of  expressive  art,  no  culture  is  greatly  to  be  preferred  to 
that  which  entails  error  and  imperfection. 

False  Models. — The  evils  of  defective  cultivation  are  not  less  con- 
spicuous when  the  pupil  possesses  both  taste  and  diligence  and  good 
ability,  but  is  misled  in  style,  by  the  influence  of  a  false  model  in 
instruction.  Of  late  years,  the  facility  of  obtaining  instruction  of  the 
best  order,  is  greatly  increased.  But  a  fatal  error  is  still  quite  cur- 
rent among  parents,  that  elementary  lessons  do  not  require  a  high 
standard  of  perfection  in  the  teacher,  and  that  therefore  the  rudiments 
of  music  may  be  acquired  under  any  supervision.  In  this  way,  vast 
numbers  of  pupils  are  rendered  imperfect  performers,  for  life,  by 
wrong  habits  acquired  in  the  earliest  stages  of  instruction  and  prac- 
tice,— habits  which  no  subsequent  reformatory  training  is  capable  of 
correcting. 

MEANS  OF  CORRECTING  PREVALENT  ERRORS  IN  THE  CULTIVATION 
OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

Remedial  Effects  of  Good  Instruction. — The  remedy  for  existing 
evils  in  this  as  in  other  departments  of  education,  lies  partly,  it  must 
be  acknowledged,  with  parents  and  the  official  guardians  of  public 
instruction  ;  and  some  of  the  evils  adverted  to  are  confessedly  beyond 
the  sphere  of  the  teacher's  action.  Still,  in  the  actual  business  of 
teaching,  even  under  all  the  impediments  arising  from  false  views  of 
education  arid  false  plans  of  established  procedure  in  instruction, 
much  may  be  effected  in  the  way  of  beneficial  reformation,  by  intel- 
ligent and  judicious  measures  on  the  part  of  the  teacher,  in  his  mode 
of  conducting  the  daily  lessons  and  exercises  in  those  branches  of 
instruction  which  are  recognized  and  demanded  by  general  opinion 
or  by  legislative  enactment. 

Examples. — Referring  to  the   utterly  deficient  provision  which  the 


94  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

general  plan  of  current  education  makes  for  the  cultivation  and  devel- 
opment of  the  perceptive  faculties,  an  enterprising  and  vigilant  teacher 
will  find  no  difficulty  in  inducing  his  pupils  to  take  a  short  walk  with 
him,  for  a  few  minutes  daily,  at  a  suitable  season  of  the  year,  with  a 
view  to  a  little  familiar  conversation  with  them  about  the  form  and 
character  of  a  plant, — even  though  but  a  weed  on  the  road-side. 
The  conversation  can  be  easily  so  managed  as  to  lead  to  the  attentive 
observation  and  close  examination  of  every  part  of  the  plant,  as  des- 
ignated, first,  by  the  name  in  ordinary  use,  and,  afterward,  if  conven- 
ient, by  the  more  exact  term  of  scientific  nomenclature.  A  micro- 
scope, such  as  may  be  easily  obtained  for  a  few  dollars,  will  be  an 
infallible  attraction  to  observation  and  inspection,  in  such  excursions, 
and  will  prove  a  most  efficient  assistant  teacher.  Curiosity,  and  won- 
der, and  inquiry,  once  excited  in  this  way,  will  cause  the  young  mind 
to  drink  in,  with  delight,  every  item  of  information  which  falls  from 
the  lips  of  the  teacher.  Actual  knowledge  will  thus  be  obtained,  and 
its  pleasure  consciously  felt.  Feeling  and  emotion,  the  main  springs 
of  expression,  are  now  brought  into  play  ;  imagination  is  awakened, 
and,  under  the  guidance  of  intelligence,  will  recognize  the  traces  of 
beauty  and  skill  in  the  handiwork  of  Nature.  To  record,  in  writing, 
what  the  eye  has  seen,  and  the  ear  heard,  and  the  mind  conceived, 
during  such  a  lesson,  will  be  no  hardship  of  Egyptian  task-work,  but 
a  pleasure  and  a  privilege.  Many  a  faithful  teacher  in  our  New 
England  States,  has,  in  this  way, — without  waiting  for  an  educational 
millennium,  in  which  botany,  composition,  and  natural  theology  shall 
all  be  introduced  into  our  common  schools,  by  legislative  authority, — 
"taken  the  responsibility,"  personally,  and  given  an  excellent  element- 
ary lesson  in  all  three. 

First  Lessons  in  Spelling  and  Reading. — The  un philosophical  and 
arbitrary  manner  in  which  many  branches  of  education  are  actually 
taught,  admits  obviously  of  a  remedy  at  the  teacher's  will.  There  is 
no  necessity  of  blindly  following  the  practice  of  making  the  child 
commit  to  memory  the  names  of  all  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  before 
he  is  asked  to  join  the  sounds  of  two,  so  as  to  read  the  words  he  or 
me.  There  is  abundance  of  rhyme,  but  very  little  reason,  in  making 
the  child  read  a  whole  column  of  rarely  occurring  and  even  of  unin- 
telligible words,  because  they  all  happen  to  have  the  same  or  similar 
combination  of  letters ;  while  his  bright  eyes  would  sparkle  with  in 
telligence  and  delight,  to  see,  in  the  column,  a  single  word  whose 
familiar  sound  would  soon  render  its  face  as  familiar.  To  the  young 
learner  in  the  primer,  the  spelling-book,  or  the  school  dictionary,  the 
whole  volume  arranges  itself  in  three  classes  of  words:  (1,)  those 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  95 

which  children  of  his  age  understand  and  use]  (2,)  those  which  they 
understand,  when  they  hear  them  from  the  lips  of  older  children  or 
of  adults,  but  which  they  do  not  use  themselves ;  (3,)  those  which 
they  neither  use  nor  understand,  but  which  with  the  aid  of  teacher 
and  book,  they  are,  in  due  season,  to  learn  to  understand  and  use 
aright.  To  follow  the  true  order  of  teaching,  in  such  circumstances, 
will  cost  the  teacher  no  more  trouble  than  the  simple  act  of  dotting 
with  the  pencil  point,  on  the  column  of  the  given  page  of  the  pupil's 
book,  those  words  which  he  finds  adapted  to  the  class-lesson  of  the 
hour,  according  to  the  intelligence  and  advancement  of  his  scholars. 
Phonetic  and  Empirical  Methods. — Another  expedient  for  the  re- 
moval of  impediments  to  successful  elementary  instruction,  and  one 
which  the  teacher  can  easily  adopt,  after  having  made  the  selection 
of  words,  as  suggested  above,  would  consist  in  the  subdivision  of 
each  of  the  classes  mentioned  into  analogous  and  anomalous  sub- 
classes. AH  the  words  of  the  first  class,  for  example, — those  which 
are  familiar  to  the  child's  ear  and  mind,  by  daily  personal  use, — are 
either  regular  or  irregular,  as  to  the  combination  of  their  letters  in 
name  and  sound.  The  former  of  these  sub-classes  may  be  easily 
learned  by  the  process  of  spelling  them  by  the  sounds  of  the  letters 
which  compose  the  words.  Thus,  in  the  word  "  page,"  the  names  of 
the  first  three  letters  very  readily  suggest  their  sounds,  the  combina- 
tion of  which  constitutes  the  reading  of  the  word.  But  not  so  with 
the  word  "gag,"  in  which  not  one  of  all  the  letters  suggests  its  own 
sound  by  the  name  given  to  it.  By  the  principle  of  analogy,  there- 
fore, all  words  in  which  the  name  of  the  letter  prompts  the  sound  to 
the  ear,  may  be  advantageously  taught  by  the  phonetic  method  of 
merely  articulating  the  sounds  of  the  letters  successively.  The  sim- 
plicity of  this  method  enables  children  to  make  rapid  progress  in  syl- 
labication and  in  reading ;  and  on  the  principle  of  allowing  children 
the  pleasure  of  helping  themselves  forward  in  an  intelligent,  conscious 
progress,  this  part  of  early  training  should  never  be  neglected.  But, 
even  in  those  words  which  are  familiar,  in  sense  and  in  use,  to  the 
ears  and  minds  of  young  children,  there  are  very  many  in  which 
there  is  little  or  no  analogy  between  the  names  of  the  letters  and  the 
sounds  which  they  receive  in  the  pronunciation  of  a  word  or  the 
enunciation  of  a  syllable.  The  orthography  of  such  words  is  no  relia- 
ble guide  to  their  orthoepy.  To  name  their  component  letters,  there- 
fore, can  effect  nothing  further  than  to  satisfy  the  teacher  that  the 
eye  of  the4  child  has  taken  in  every  letter  of  the  word  before  him. 
So  far  well.  But,  after  all,  the  child's  eye  actually  learns  to  take  in 
such  words  by  the  letters  in  mass,  and  depends  on  an  Arbitrary  effort 


96  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

of  memory,  in  pronouncing  them.  The  sooner,  therefore,  that  the 
little  learner  acquires  the  habit  of  reading  such  words  at  sight,  with- 
out puzzling  himself  with  the  confusion  arising  from  the  discrepancy 
between  the  names  and  the  sounds  of  their  component  letters,  the 
more  easy  and  the  more  sure  will  be  his  progress. 

Each  of  these  methods  of  teaching,  in  the  elementary  processes  of 
spelling  and  reading,  is  good  for  its  own  purpose ; — the  phonetic  for 
the  analogies  of  orthoepy,  and  the  empirical,  as  it  may  be  called,  for 
its  anomalies.  But  the  error  in  teaching  has  been  the  indiscriminate 
and  exclusive  use  of  the  one  or  the  other;  in  consequence  of  which, 
the  learner's  progress  has  been  rendered  unnecessarily  difficult  and 
tedious.  The  inherent  difficulties  of  a  language  so  irregular  as  the 
English,  render  the  closest  attention,  on  the  part  of  the  teacher,  to 
every  means  of  overcoming  them,  doubly  important  in  early  training. 

Orthoepy. — In  this  branch  of  instruction  everything  depends  on 
the  living  teacher, — on  the  correctness  of  his  own  exemplifications 
and  the  diligence  of  his  endeavors.  Indeed,  there  is,  commonly,  nc 
reason,  but  neglect  on  jhe  part  of  the  instructor,  why  every  child  at 
school  is  not  daily  and  thoroughly  trained  in  the  exact  articulation  of 
all  the  elementary  sounds  of  the  English  language,  and  in  the  dis 
tinct  enunciation  of  their  principal  radical  combinations;  nor  any 
other  reason  why  an  obsolete,  awkward,  or  inappropriate  manner  of 
pronouncing  common  words  should  be  tolerated  in  any  stage  of 
education. 

'*  School  Reading? — A  similar  remark  may  be  made,  as  regards 
the  unmeaning  and  inexpressive  style  of  reading,  which  is  so  current, 
not  only  in  schools,  but  in  higher  seminaries  and  professional  exer- 
cises. This  fault,  so  commonly  remarked,  would  not  exist  at  any 
stage  of  education,  or  in  any  form  of  life,  private  or  public,  if  our 
primary  teachers  were  only  attentive  to  accustom  their  pupils,  in  their 
very  first  exercises  in  the  reading  of  sentences,  to  repeat  them  care- 
fully, with  a  view  to  the  expression  of  sense  and  not  the  mere  pronoun- 
cing of  words. 

Academic  Elocution. — This  department  of  instruction  is  another 
in  which  the  appropriate  cultivation  of  the  expressive  faculties  is  not 
dependent  on  any  change  in  the  prescribed  forms  of  education,  so 
much  as  on  the  personal  endeavors  of  the  teacher.  Our  public  speak- 
ers would  not  so  generally  utter  their  words  in  the  formal  tones  of 
arbitrary  pulpit  style,  were  teachers  duly  attentive  to  point  out  to 
young  academic  declaimers  the  natural  and  appropriate  vocal  express- 
ion of  feeling  and  sentiment;  nor  should  we  ever  see  those  frenzied 
extravagances  of  passion  and  grotesque  gesticulation,  which  so  fre- 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  97 

quently  degrade  the  style  of  popular  oratory,  were  teachers  careful  to 
cultivate,  in  academic  declamation,  purity  of  taste,  and  true  force  of 
effect,  in  the  utterance  of  emotion. 

Grammatical  Instruction. — Even  in  the  teaching  of  grammar, 
where  less  scope,  perhaps,  is  given  to  the  discretion  of  the  teacher,  it 
still  depends  on  himself  whether  he  shall  follow  the  precise  order 
of  topics  in  an  ill-arranged  text-book,  or  use  his  own  judgment,  and 
present  the  subject  to  the  minds  of  his  pupils  in  the  order  which  he 
feels  that  an  intelligent  and  practical  study  of  the  subject,  and  a  ra- 
tional progress  in  its  application,  demand.  Nothing  lies  more  prop- 
erly within  the  province  of  the  teacher,  than  the  duty  of  seeing  to  it 
that  his  pupils  thoroughly  understand  every  word  of  their  various 
lessons,  and  thus  reap  the  benefit  of  grammar,  in  the  perfect  inter- 
pretation and  right  use  of  the  current  words  of  their  own  communi- 
cations by  speech  and  writing,  and  in  the  perusal  of  the  useful  pro- 
ductions'of  the  press.  The  faithful  use  of  an  etymological  spelling- 
book,  and  of  the  dictionary,  is  all  the  cost  of  an  aid  so  valuable  to 
the  teacher,  and  of  an  attainment  so  valuable  to  die  pupil. 

Practical  Rhetoric:  School  Exercises. — Training  in  the  appropriate 
use  of  the  English  language,  ought  not  to  be  limited  to  the  mere 
grammatical  exercise  of  composing  sentences.  Even  in  our  common 
schools,  it  should  extend  to  that  cultivation  of  taste  by  which  neat  as 
well  as  correct  expression  is  acquired  as  a  habit.  To  cultivate,  in  his 
pupils,  the  power  of  appreciating  excellence  in  language,  it  is  not 
necessary  that  the  teacher  should  refer  them  to  a  systematic  treatise 
on  rhetoric.  The  school  reading  book  usually  furnishes  abundance 
of  the  best  materials  for  culture,  in  the  presentation  of  the  best  modes 
of  composition,  as  exemplified  in  the  language  of  the  pieces  pre- 
scribed as  reading  lessons.  The  very  best  training  for  the  acquisition 
of  sound  judgment  and  good  taste  in  expression,  may  easily  be  had, 
if  the  teacher  will  but  secure  the  intelligent  and  voluntary  action  of 
his  pupils,  in  frequently  analysing  portions  of  some  of  the  best  of 
such  passages,  in  occasionally  transcribing  them,  and  even  committing 
them  to  memory.  The  exercise  of  careful  transcription,  is,  perhaps, 
the  besf,  practical  expedient  that  can  be  found  for  securing  that  literal 
and  mechanical  correctness  in  the  details  of  the  written  forms  of  lan- 
guage, as  to  orthography  and  punctuation,  which  though,  indeed,  but 
minor  mattci-s^are  yet  so  important,  as  indispensable  to  the  decencies 
arid  proprieties  of  style.  How  ineffectual,  for  such  purposes,  the 
common  routine  of  education  proves,  none  can  know  but  persons- 
whose  business  brings  them  into  extensive  observation  of  such  par- 
ticulars. 

1  IT 


98  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

Rhetorical  Exercises  in  higher  Seminaries. — To  remedy  the  evils 
arising  from  the  narrow  and  artificial  character  of  our  higher  forms 
of  rhetorical  culture,  we  need  a  wider :  scope  of  discipline  not  only  in 
rhetoric  itself,  but  in  logic,  and  in  the  principles  of  taste  as  embodied 
in  the  esthetics  of  every  form  of  expressive  art.  We  need,  yet  more, 
however,  a  special  course  of  practical  training,  for  which  the  rhetori- 
cal teacher  ought  justly  to  be  held  responsible, — a  course  which 
should  consist  in  the  careful  and  close  analysis  of  distinguished  mod- 
els of  successful  composition,  so  as  to  trace  their  order  and  method  in 
the  arrangement  of  thought,  the  artistic  character  of  their  aesthetic 
light  and  shade  and  coloring,  the  mechanism  of  their  sentential  struc- 
ture, and  the  aptness  of  their  verbal  expression  in  detail.  A  long 
and  rigorous  course  of  disciplinary  exercise  in  such  forms,  would  not 
only  furnish  the  pen  of  the  ready  writer  for  the  varied  demands  of 
actual  life,  but  the  requisite  preparatory  training  for  the  office  of  pub- 
lic speaking,  in  which  a  ready  command  of  well  digested  thought 
and  fit  expression  is  so  important  to  successful  effort.  The  student 
would,  by  such  training,  effectually  learn  the  value  of  clear  consecu- 
tive thinking,  of  genuine  taste,  of  manly  plainness  of  diction  and 
simplicity  of  expression  :  he  would  be  thoroughly  secured  from  fall- 
ing into  the  "bald,  disjointed  chat,"  the  pompous  harangue,  the  insane 
extravagance  of  emotion,  and  the  fantastic  verbiage,  which  are  so 
often  palmed  on  our  popular  assemblies,  and  lauded  in  our  transient 
vehicles  of  criticism,  as  wonderful  displays  of  or'ginal  genius  or  orator- 
ical power. 

The  Study  of  Language. — One  very  important  aid  to  the  gene- 
rous culture  and  full  development  of  the  expressive  faculties,  is,  as  yet, 
very  imperfectly  furnished  by  our  higher  forms  of  liberal  education. 
While  the  study  of  the  ancient  languages  is  formally  acknowledged 
as  one  of  the  most  efficacious  methods  of  training  the  mind  to  a  dis- 
tinct perception  of  whatever  constitutes  power  or  perfection  of  ex- 
pression ;  and  while  liberal  provision  of  time  and  means  is  carefully 
made,  with  a  view  to  secure  the  full  benefit  to  be  derived  from  the 
contemplation  and  analytical  examination  of  these  faultless  models ; 
too  little  attention  is  paid  to  the  invaluable  advantages  which  might 
be  gained  from  a  corresponding  rigor  of  study  and  analysis,  directed 
to  the  great  authors  who  constitute  the  classics  of  modern  literature, 
in  foreign  languages,  and  in  our  own.  • 

The  perfunctory  perusal  and  verbal  recitation  of  a  few  passages 
from  such  authors,  which  usually  form  a  part  of  academic  exercises, 
in  this  department  of  education,  can  never  be  seriously  proposed  as 
etlocting  the  purposes  of  critical  appreciation  and  thorough  discipline. 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES.  99 

In  our  highest  seminaries,  little  is  attempted  beyond  the  processes  of 
grammatical  analysis  and  interpretation,  in  a  course  of  literal  and 
mechanical  routine,  even  with  regard  to  the  ancient  classics ;  a  mere 
modicum  of  the  same  species  of  attention  is  usually  given  to  the 
very  noblest  writers  of  Germany,  France  or  Italy.  The  Spanish  and 
the  Portuguese  languages  are  given  up,  for  the  most  part,  to  those  per- 
sons who  happen  to  have  occasion  for  the  use  of  them,  as  a  conven- 
ience in  mercantile  operations.  The  languages  of  the  North  of  Europe, 
whose  ancestral  affinities  with  the  English  render  them  so  richly 
instructive,  as  regards  the  full  and  true  understanding  and  expert  use 
of  the  most  significant  and  expressive  part  of  our  own  native  lan- 
guage ; — these,  as  yet,  are  left  to  an  adventurous  few,  comparatively, 
— the  solitary  explorers  and  pioneers  in  the  study  of  modern  literature. 

Ajnerica,  in  its  peculiar  national  position,  which  brings  to  its 
open  homes  men  of  all  countries  and  of  every  tongue,  possesses  un- 
equaled  facilities  for  the  extensive  acquisition  of  all  the  benefits 
resulting  from  the  study  of  language  in  its  various  forms  ;  and  a  wide 
range  of  advantages,  in  this  relation  of  culture,  should  be  justly  held 
as  the  birthright  of  our  children,  and  as  the  characteristic  distinction 
of  our  educated  youth  and  mature  scholars.  Not  that  we  would 
have  American  teachers  pursue  the  course,  which  is  unfortunately  yet 
too  common,  of  giving  a  superficial  attention,  for  a  few  months,  or  a 
few  weeks,  perhaps,  to  one  or  more  of  the  languages  of  modern 
Europe,  and  then  attempting  the  task  of  teaching  them.  But,  gen- 
erally speaking,  American  teachers  who  wish  to  enjoy  the  advan- 
tage of  teaching  more  intelligently  and  effectually  their  native  lan- 
guage, in  consequence  of  the  opportunity  of  better  understanding  its 
character,  by  their  ability  to  compare  it  with  others, — an  advantage 
beyond  price  ; — most,  if  not  all,  of  such  teachers  have  easy  resort  to  a 
living  instructor  in  whatever  language  they  desire  to  study,  and  may, 
in  due  time,  become  possessed  in  this  way,  of  a  vast  amount  of  intel- 
lectual wealth,  the  benefit  of  which  is  sure  to  be  felt,  not  only  in 
their  own  mental  action,  but  in  the  attainments  of  their  pupils. 

In  the  department  of  language,  however,  there  is  no  acquirement 
of  which  teachers  and  pupils  stand  in  more  urgent  need  than  that  of 
a  perfect  command  of  correct,  clear,  strong,  expressive  English.  The 
attention  paid  to  this  most  important  attainment  is,  as  yet,  utterly  in- 
adequate to  the  demands  of  a  generous  cultivation  or  those  of  actual 
life  and  its  daily  duties.  Nothing  is  more  common  than  this  humilia- 
ting admission.  Yet  little  is  done  to  do  away  with  the  necessity  for 
it.  We  have,  it  is  true,  of  late  years,  made  some  advances  toward  a 


100  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  EXPRESSIVE  FACULTIES. 

better  state  of  things,  in  our  educational  provision  of  better  modes  of 
teaching  grammar,  synthetically  as  well  as  analytically  ;  and,  in  some 
schools,  the  practical  study  of  etymology  receives  a  commendable 
degree  of  attention.  Yet  it  is  rare  to  find  in  any  seminary  that 
thorough  analytical  investigation  of  the  words  of  our  language  which 
every  student  is  expected  to  exemplify  in  his  exercises  on  a  pagp  of 
the  ancient  classics. 

The  study  of  English  words,  if  faithfully  pursued  in  the  daily  les- 
sons of  our  schools,  with  any  thing  like  the  application  exhibited  in 
the  examination,  and  classifying,  and  arranging,  and  labeling  of  the 
specimens  of  even  a  very  ordinary  cabinet,  .would  enrich  the  intel- 
lectual stores  of  the  young  and  even  of  the  mature  mind,  to  an  ex- 
tent of  which  we  can,  at  present,  hardly  form  a  conception.  Nothing, 
however,  short  of  such  diligence  will  serve  any  effectual  purpose. 
The  student  of  his  own  vernacular  tongue  must  be  content  to  employ 
the  same  close,  minute  inspection,  the  same  careful  examination,  the 
same  correct  designation,  the  same  exact  location  and  scrupulous  con- 
servation of  every  word  that  he  would  intelligently  appreciate  or 
skillfully  use,  as  the  mineralogist  adopts  in  the  selection  and  arrange- 
ment of  his  specimens. 

Our  prevalent  modes  of  education  have  been  so  defective,  as  re- 
gards the  means  or  opportunities  of  acquiring  a  proper  knowledge  of 
the  English  language,  that  the  humble  attainment  of  perfect  orthogra- 
phy is  comparatively  rare,  even  among  the  "liberally"  educated. 
Few  students,  even  in  our  higher  seminaries  of  learning,  are  trained 
to  recognize  and  appreciate  the  value  of  an  English  root  or  primitive 
word,  to  trace  a  secondary  to  a  primary  sense,  or  a  primary  to  its 
secondary,  to  translate  a  passage  of  Latinized  English  into  its  Saxon 
equivalent  words  of  the  mother- tongue,  to  draw  the  line  of  discrimina- 
tion between  present  and  obsolete  usage  in  expression,  to  detect  the 
nice  shades  of  meaning  in  words  regarded  as  synonymous, — to  use, 
in  fact,  their  own  language  expertly. 

It  is  universally  admitted  that  no  language  needs  such  processes  to 
be  applied  to  it  so  much  as  our  own.  Its  vast  copiousness,  in  conse- 
quence of  its  many  sources,  the  conflicting  character  of  these  them- 
selves, the  comparatively  small  number  of  English  writers  who  have 
been  willing  to  take  the  pains  to  write  correctly,  so  far  as  to  merit  the 
name  of  models,  the  contradictory  usage  which  has,  from  this  cause, 
prevailed,  even  among  distinguished  authors — all  have  conspired  to 
render  careful  study  and  extensive  practice  indispensable  to  the  stu- 
dent who  would  do  justice  to  the  great  language  which  it  is  his  birth- 
right to  inherit,  for  all  of  life's  best  purposes. 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 


INTRODUCTORY  OBSERVATIONS. — In  the  preceding  lectures  of  this 
series,  we  were  occupied  with  the  consideration  of  the  perceptive 
and  the  expressive  faculties,  with  a  view  to  the  plan  and  purposes  of 
education.  Following  the  historical  order  of  development  in  the  dif- 
ferent classes  in  which  the  mental  powers  may,  for  such  purposes,  be 
grouped,  we  enter  now  on  the  study  of  the  various  modes  of  intellect- 
ual action  which  may  be  classed  under  the  denomination  of 
REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

Here  we  are  met  anew  by  a  difficulty  inherent  in  our  native  lan- 
guage, in  the  paucity  and  indefiniteness  of  the  terms  which  it  employs 
to  designate  the  phenomena  of  mind.  The  vagueness  of  the  phrase 
"  reflective  faculties,"  is  a  serious  impediment  to  clearness  and  dis- 
tinctness of  conception,  as  regards  any  attempt  at  exact  definition  or 
satisfactory  classification  of  intellectual  acts  or  conditions.  The  term 
"  reflective,"  however,  if  we  resort  once  more  to  the  serviceable  aid 
of  etymology,  as  a  key  to  the  interpretation  of  language,  will  prove 
strikingly  suggestive  of  meaning ;  and,  by  its  figurative  force  and  pe- 
culiar significance,  will  atone,  to  some  extent;  iJo/jtq  da 
philosophic  precision.  ^>n 

The  term  "perceptive,"  (literally,  taking\tJ\rQik/&,)  ^U 
tellectual  condition  in  which  the  mind  is  in  the  act  of  taking,  receiv-' 
ing,  or  forming,  ideas  through  the  medium  of  the  senses.  The  term 
"  expression "  implies  a  state  in  which  the  mind  is  undergoing  a 
process  of  pressing,  or  being  pressed,  from  within  outward.  But  the 
term  *4  reflection,"  (bending  back,}  suggests,  figuratively,  that  state  or 
act  of  the  mind  in  which  it  reflects,  repeats,  or  gives  back,  inwardly, 
the  images  impressed  upon  itself, — the  effects  of  which  it  is  conscious, 
— whether  produced  from  without  or  from  within,  whether  occasioned 
by  perception,  imagination,  conception,  or  emotion.  In  this  condition 
is  is  implied  that  attention  turns  inward,  and  dwells,  more  or  less 
consciously,  on  its  internal  subjects,  rather  than  on  the  objects  by 
which  they  may  have  been  occasioned. 


}Q2  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

The  history, — so  to  term  it, — of  intellectual  action  implied  in  the 
application  of  the  word  "reflective,"  represents  the  mind,  as  in  the 
act  of  going  forth  from  its  inner  self,  meeting  the  forms  of  the 
external  world,  and,  by  the  impression  which  these  produce  upon  it, 
"reflecting,"  (turning  back  or  inward,)  upon  itself,  to  contemplate  and 
deliberately  consider  what  it  there  consciously  beholds.  Nor  does  the 
term  lose  aught  of  its  significance,  when  it  is  applied  to  the  inward 
action  of  the  mind  on  the  phenomena  of  its  own  consciousness,  when 
the  forms  of  imagination,  or  even  of  pure  thought  itself,  become  so 
forcible  as  to  attract  and  absorb  the  attention.  The  figurative  word 
then  represents  the  mind  as  turning  back  upon  itself,  to  look  inward, 
so  as  to  ascertain  and  define,  or  consider  more  fully,  the  objects  of  its 
own  creation,  and  to  follow  the  trains  of  thought  which  these  suggest. 
In  either  of  the  supposed  cases, — whether  the  objective  or  the  sub- 
jective world  furnish  the  data  of  thought, — the  result  is  an  ultimate 
inward  movement,  which,  although  it  may,  in  given  instances,  lead  to 
the  anticipation  of  external  action,  as  a  consequence,  is,  so  far,  a 
purely  mental  condition,  sanctioning  the  popular  usage  which  applies 
the  term  u  reflection  "  to  all  modes  of  intellectual  action  which  are 
of  a  strictly  internal  character. 

Recognizing  this  fact  of  language,  and  pursuing  our  analysis  of  the 
human  faculties  as  subjects  of  disciplinary  culture,  we  now,  therefore, 
change  our  field  of  observation,  arid  pass  from  the  outward  spheres  of 
perceptive  observation  and  expressive  communication  to  the  silent,  in- 
ner, invisible,  spiritual,  and  purely  intellectual  region  of  Thought. 
We  now  contempjate 'man  as  made  in  the  image  of  his  Maker,  as  an 
'intelligent- and rr2tTr>rfal  being;  and  we  trace  the  working  of  those 
powers  which  ally  J>imrt&  "  things  unseen  and  eternal." 
<  •  SV>1  lowing:  fes  >Mfre/the  method  of  observing  (1,)  the  forms  of 
mental  action  grouped  under  a  given  classification  ;  (2,)  their  actua- 
ting principle,  or  motive  force  ;  (3,)  their  natural  and  habitual  tendency; 
(4,)  the  results  of  their  action  ;  and  (5,)  the  educational  processes 
consequently  required  for  their  development  and  discipline,  we  proceed 
to  a  summary 

(I.)     ENUMERATION    OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

Memory,  Conception,  Consciousness,  Reason,  Understanding,  Judg- 
ment. 

Explanatory  Remark. — This  classification  is  presented  not  as  one 
philosophically  complete  or  exhaustive,  but  merely  as  a  suggestive  out- 
line, for  educational  purposes.  It  is  intentionally  limited  to  the  chief 
of  those  forms  of  mental  action  which  may  be  regarded  as  acts  or 
powers  not  only  strictly  interior,  but  purely  intellectual,  as  contradis- 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  JQ3 

tinguished  from  those  which  are  concerned  with  the  external  objects 
and  facts  of  perception,  from  those  which  consist  in  inward  or  outward 
movements  of  feeling,  and  from  those  which  are  conversant  with  the 
ideal  forms  and  creations  of  the  imagination.  A  more  extensive  clas- 
sification, including  the  subdivisions  and  subordinate  details  of  reflec- 
tive intellection,  will  rfecessarily  present  itself  at  a  later  stage  of  our 
analysis,  when  we  come  to  the  consideration  of  the  various  forms  of 
exercise  to  which  this  group  of  faculties  is  subjected  in  the  processes 
of  education. 

(1.)  MEMORY:  the  Basis  of  Reflective  Power. — This  faculty  nat- 
urally claims  our  first  attention,  when  we  contemplate  man  as  a  being 
endowed  with  the  power  of  reflective  intelligence.  It  is  this  faculty 
which  enables  him  to  take  the  first  step  from  the  exterior  and  object- 
ive world  into  the  interior  and  subjective.  Its  exercise  empowers  him, 
even  in  the  absence  of  the  objects  of  sense,  to  retain  or  to  recall,  for 
indefinite  periods,  and  at  indefinite  intervals,  the  ideas  which  he  de- 
rived from  them.  He  can  thus,  at  pleasure,  dispense  with  the  actual 
presence  of  external  objects,  and  yet,  by  dwelling  on  ,them  mentally, 
after  he  has  withdrawn  from  them  outwardly,  pursue  the  trains  of 
thought  to  which  they  give  rise.  As  a  result,  he  thus  acquires  a  more 
intimate  knowledge  of  their  relations  to  his  own  interior  being,  and 
converts  the  pabulum  of  intelligence,  furnished  in  the  data  of  the  out- 
ward world,  into  the  pure  elements  of  intellectual  sustenance.  The 
activity  of  this  power  is,  in  fact,  the  measure  of  his  growth  in  mental 
stature  and  strength.  It  is  the  condition  of  all  intelligent  pro- 
gress, whether  we  regard  memory  as  the  grand  receptacle  and  deposi- 
tory of  all  those  elements  of  knowledge  which  are  at  once  the  rudi- 
ments of  intellectual  life,  the  springs  mental  of  action,  and  the 
material  of  thought,  or  as  the  chain  which  links  the  past  to  the 
present,  and  retains  every  acquisition  as  a  foothold  for  the  next  step 
forward  in  the  processes  of  reason  and  the  investigation  of  truth. 

Remembrance. — The  faculty  of  memory,  even  in  its  comparatively 
passive  and  quiescent  form  of  mere  retention,  or  remembrance,  gives 
man  the  power  of  holding  with  a  firm  grasp  all  the  treasures  which 
observation  enables  him  to  accumulate  from  without,  and  to  carry 
them  with  him  into  that  internal  region  of  thought  where  they  are  to 
be  assimilated  to  his  own  mental  being,  and  become  component  parts 
of  it,  in  transfigured  forms  of  living  power  and  beauty.  Not  only  so  : 
but  even  the  involuntary  susceptibility  of  this  vast  capacity  preserves 
in  the  mind  the  imprint  of  every  passing  thought,  every  form  of 
imagination,  and  every  mood  of  feeling,  which  has  character  enough 
to  excite  his  attention  and  recall  him  to  himself,  in  the  exercise  of 
consciousness  and  reflection. 


104  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

Intellectual  and  Moral  Offices  of  Memory. — This  benign  retentive 
power  gives  unity  to  man's  intellectual  and  moral  life.  It  is  the  sure 
and  steadfast  anchor  by  which  he  grapples  the  present  to  the  past, 
and  is  saved  from  the  fluctuation  and  fragmentary  tossing  of  "the  ig- 
norant present."  In  the  wide  field  of  culture,  memory  makes  the  mind 
the  seed  plot  and  garden  ground  of  all  the  knowledge  which  human  care 
and  kindness  have  the  skill  or  the  power  to  drop  into  it.  Fertilized 
by  the  genial  influences  of  well  directed  education,  the  retentive  ca- 
pacity of  memory  becomes  rich  in  every  precious  and  noble  product 
of  mind  by  which  the  intellectual  life  of  the  world  is  nourished  and 
sustained. 

But  it  is  as  an  element  of  intellectual  and  moral  power  in  human 
character,  that  this  faculty  reveals  its  chief  value.  Its  very  nature  and 
tendency  is  to  constitute  man  a  reflective  being,  by  withdrawing  him 
from  the  influence  of  a  too  exclusive  regard  to  the  present  and  the 
external ;  by  soliciting  his  attention  to  the  profoundest  verities  of  his 
own  intelligent  and  immortal  being  ;  and  by  balancing  the  stern  real- 
ities of  experience  against  the  sometimes  fallacious  solicitations  of 
hope,  or  the  grave  actualities  of  the  past  against  the  doubtful 
promises  of  the  future.  It  prompts  to  thought,  and  leads  to  security 
amidst  uncertainty  and  distraction.  It  invites  to  reflective  meditation, 
by  the  suggestive  materials  in  which  it  abounds.  It  cherishes  contem- 
plation, by  opening  to  the  mind's  eye  the  long  vista  of  the  past  with 
its  fast-linked  trains  of  scene  and  incident  and  action,  and  the  inef- 
faceable impressions  which  all  these  have  graven  upon  the  heart.  It 
tends  to  make  man  a  considerate  and  thoughtful  being,  by  the  faith- 
ful monitions  which  it  furnishes  to  the  lips  of  wisdom  warning  against 
the  errors  of  judgment  or  of  will,  by  reminding  of  their  penalties 
formerly  incurred. 

Remembrance  saves  from  the  domineering  ascendency  and  absorb- 
ing attractions  of  the  sensuous  and  the  transient,  by  intermingling  with 
the  fluidity  and  evanescence  of  the  present  the  solidity  and  perma- 
nence of  the  past.  It  thus  tends  to  give  gravity  and  weight  to  char- 
acter ;  and  if  its  influence  is  sometimes  a  shade  too  sombre  forgayety, 
it  contributes  a  not  undesirable  element  to  the  sternness  of  manhood, 
as  a  safeguard  to  the  firmness  of  will.  Its  office  is,  in  this  respect,  a 
preventive  one, — to  save  man  from  the  instability  which  the  exclusive 
influence  of  things  present  and  things  outward  might  induce ;  and, 
by  attracting  him  inward  to  himself,  it  favors  the  acquisition  of  that 
self-knowledge  which  is  the  anchor  of  his  safety. 

Recollection. — This  term  is  but  another  name  for  the  faculty  of 
memory,  and  merely  intimates  that  the  impressiops  made  on  the  mind 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  105 

by  a  given  object,  scene,  or  event,  may  have  been,  for  a  time,  effaced, 
or  its  elements  dispersed,,  by  the  intervention  of  other  agencies ;  and 
that,  with  or  without  an  effort  of  the  will  to  tHat  effect,  but  by  the 
operation  of  some  law  of  mental  association,  the  idea  recurs  or  re- 
turns, as  it  were,  and,  perhaps,  unexpectedly  and  suddenly,  to  the 
mind.  We  are  then  said  to  "  recollect,"  (gather  again,)  or  recall 
what  had,  for  a  season,  escaped  the  retentive  hold  of  memory. 

The  very  abruptness  and  suddenness  of  the  transition  of  thought, 
in  such  instances,  exerts  a  peculiar  power  on  the  reflective  action  of 
the  mind,  and  makes  it  more  striking,  more  impressive,  and  more  ef- 
fectual. Recollection  may  thus  light  up  the  soul  with  the  instantane- 
ous gleam  of  a  rekindled  thought,  or  plunge  it  into  the  depths 
of  a  past  grief;  or  it  may  arrest  the  will  on  the  very  brink  of 
remembered  evil.  A  long  train  of  profound  reflections  may  thus 
be  suggested,  which  may  exert  an  influence  on  the  character  of  a. 
whole  life. 

A  mere  flash  of  reflection  has  sometimes  sufficed,  by  the  instant  re- 
calling of  scenes  of  childhood's  innocent  enjoyment,  or  the  injunctions 
of  parental  wisdom  and  love  to  reinstate  conscience  on  its  rightful 
throne,  and  bring  back  the  tempted  to  himself,  or  to  restrain  him 
from  the  first  steps  of  a  career  of  ruin.  A  remembered  promise, 
pledging  honor  and  truth,  has  sometimes  risen  up  as  a  barrier  against 
an  approaching  tide  of  overwhelming  guilt.  Averse  of  sacred  Scrip- 
ture, darting  across  the  mind,  has  checked  the  hand  already  stretched 
out  to  do  the  deed  of  wickedness  which  no  after  tears  of  penitence 
could  have  sufficed  to  wash  out. 

But  not  as  a  preventive  only  does  memory  thus  subserve  man's 
highest  interests  :  its  recurring  suggestions  are  not  less  frequently  in- 
spiring prompters  to  every  form  of  virtue.  To  the  dispirited  traveler 
on  the  pathway  of  life,  it  comes,  sometimes,  as  an  inspiring  angel, 
with  messages  of  cheering  and  encouragement  drawn  from  the 
remembered  virtues  of  the  struggling  great  and  good  who  have  gone 
before.  It  points  him  to  "  their  footprints  on  the  sands  of  time,"  and 
bids  him  "  take  heart  again."  It  reminds  him  that  his  great  reliance 
is  not  on  the  outward  and  the  material,  but  on  that  "  hidden 
strength"  of  which  our  greatest  poet  speaks  so  eloquently.  The 
maxim  or  the  motto  which  the  guardian  care  of  the  mother  or  the 
teacher  had  engraven  as  a  watchword  on  the  tablet  of  the  heart,  in 
early  years,  recurs,  sometimes,  to  incite  to  noble  deeds  or  noble  en- 
during, the  man  encompassed  by  difficulties  and  dangers  before  which 
he  would  otherwise  have  staggered.  The  "  one,  last,  best  effort, 
more,"  which  wins  the  crown  of  victory,  is  that,  not  unfrequently, 


100  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

which  follows  the  backward  glance  of  memory  to  the  parting  scene, 
and  farewell  words  of  a  parent's  blessing. 

Memory  as  a  Subject  of  Cultivation. — In  either  form,  whether 
that  of  retentive  remembrance  or  momentary  recollection,  memory 
furnishes  the  material,  and  solicits  the  action,  of  the  whole  class  of 
reflective  faculties.  To  the  educator,  therefore,  the  judicious  cultiva- 
tion and  development  of  this  capacity,  in  the  minds  committed  to  his 
care,  becomes  a  matter  of  vital  moment,  that  the  impressible  memor}r 
.of  the  young  may  be  rich  in  valuable  resources,  and  strong  for  the  aid 
of  every  good  purpose,  sound  and  healthy  in  its  action,  firm  in  its 
grasp,  and  prompt  to  yield  up  its  acquisitions  when  in  demand  for 
intellectual  emergencies. 

The  true  teacher  will  be  careful  that  this  indispensable  servant  of 
the  mind  be  not  exhausted  by  overwork,  that  its  strength  be  not 
expended  on  worthless  material,  that  its  receptive  capacity  be  not 
crammed  to  unhealthful  and  unprofitable  repletion,  at  the  expense  of 
inaction  and  inanity  to  all  the  other  capacities  of  the  mind.  But  of 
the  appropriate  modes  of  exercise  for  the  cultivation  of  this  faculty, 
we  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  more  fully  under  the  head  of  educa- 
tional processes. 

(2.)  CONCEPTION  :  Etymological  Sense  of  the  Word. — The  prim- 
itive signification  of  this  term  implies  that  the  mind  has  the  power  of 
"taking"  (receiving,  or  forming,)  ideas  "with,"  (within,)  itself, 
whether  on  data  furnished  from  without,  and  by  the  alchemy  of  mind, 
transmuted  into  intellectual  forms,  or  on  materials  found  within  itself, 
originating  in  feeling  or  in  thought,  partaking  of  its  own  character, 
and  wearing  forms  purely  ideal.  In  the  process  of  intelligence,  con- 
ception presents  itself  as  the  counterpart  of  perception,  performing,  in 
the  interior  world  of  thought,  an  office  similar  to  that  of  the  latter  in 
the  domain  of  exterjor  observation. 

Its  Proper  Acceptation. — The  term  "  conception,"  in  its  full  and 
proper  acceptation,  comprehends  the  action  of  the  mind  in  the  intel- 
ligent contemplation  or  cognition  of  any  object  or  subject  in  the 
whole  range  of  the  ideal  world.  It  applies  to  the  recognition  or  cre- 
ation of  the  forms  of  imagination  and  the  figures  of  fancy,  not  less 
than  to  the  ideas  of  pure  intellection.  In  the  former  relation,  it 
stands  connected  with  the  action  of  the  expressive  faculties,  as  dis- 
cussed in  a  previous  lecture ;  but  it  is  in  the  latter  sense,  as  a  contem- 
plative and  reflective  faculty,  that  we  now  regard  it.  In  this  connec- 
tion, it  approaches,  sometimes  to  the  sphere  of  memory,  and  draws 
from  that  source  the  materials  on  which  it  acts, — whether  these  wore 
originally  external  or  internal  in  their  origin. 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  iQf 

Different  Views  of  this  Faculty. — Contemplated  in  the  light  last 
mentioned,  the  faculty  of  conception  has,  by  some  eminent  writers  on 
intellectual  philosophy,  been  considered  as  identical  with  memory ; 
while,  by  others,  its  definite  action  on  forms  furnished  by  imagination, 
has  been  regarded  as  identifying  it  with  that  faculty.  Hence,  we  read 
of  the  "conceptions  of  memory,"  and  the  "conceptions  of  imagina- 
tion." A  third  class  of  authors  treating  of  intellectual  topics, 
evidently  regard  conception  as  simply  an  act  of  the  understanding. 

The  unsatisfactory  character  of  popular  usage  in  our  own  tongue, 
as  regards  the  application  of  language  to  mental  phenomena,  is  strik- 
ingly exhibited  in  the  several  arbitrary  senses  in  which  the  term. 
"  conception  "  is  used,  as  suggesting  imperfection,  dimness,  or  remote- 
ness in  the  objects  or  subjects  of  contemplation.  We  can  not,  there- 
fore, rely  on  any  consentaneous  use  of  nomenclature  as  a  guide  to 
the  character  or  action  of  the  faculty  in  question.  Adverting,  how- 
ever, to  the  highly  suggestive  etymological  sense  of  the  term  "  con- 
ception," as  it  has  been  employed  in  the  metaphysical  vocabulary  of 
all  nations,  for  successive  ages,  we  find  the  susceptive  intellect  figura- 
tively represented  by  it  as — when  in  the  act  of  forming  ideas — impreg- 
nated, or  fertilized,  not  only  from  the  various  sources  of  intelligence 
furnished  by  the  external  world  of  perception  and  the  interior  spheres 
of  feeling  and  imagination,  but  as  possessing  a  self-vivifying  power  of 
creating  and  contemplating  an  inner  world  of  its  own,  more  or  less 
analogous  to  that  without,  though  formed  of  materials  purely  intel- 
lectual and  spiritual ; — a  condition  which  is  exemplified  in  the 
exercises  of  its  own  conscious  intuition,  in  the  sequences  of  thought, 
and  in  the  processes  of  reasoning.  Nor  is  the  independent  power  of 
this  faculty  in  any  case  more  distinctly  perceptible  than  when,  bor- 
rowing the  congenial  aid  of  reason,  it  inspires  with  intelligence,  and 
moulds  into  symmetry  the  fluctuating  forms  of  imagination  which 
hover  in  the  ideal  atmosphere. 

This  strictly  interior  power  of  the  mind  may  be  regarded  as  the 
first  step  in  its  consciously  reflective  action,  in  which, — not  as  in  the 
partly  involuntary  condition  of  mere  remembrance  or  recollection,  it 
is  comparatively  passive,  or  works  under  a  law  of  necessity, — but  vol- 
untarily and  deliberately  cooperates  with  impressions  received  from 
without,  with  a  consciousness  of  their  tendencies  and  of  its  own  action. 
It  is  this  power  which  virtually  confers  on  man  a  world  of  his  own, 
— an  intelligent  sphere  of  activity,  independent,  for  the  time,  of  the 
external  universe  in  which  he  moves, — a  sphere  in  which  his  higher 
intellectual  and  moral  nature  has  its  appropriate  scope.  The  strength, 
the  clearness,  and  the  precision  with  which  this  faculty  acts,  deter- 
mine his  rank  in  the  scale  of  intelligence  and  moral  power. 


108  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

Its  Susceptibility  of  Cultivation. — In  the  relations  of  educational 
culture,  the  exercise  of  this  faculty  becomes  a  subject  of  deepest  in- 
terest to  those  whose  office  it  is  to  train  the  mind  to  true  and  effective 
habits  of  action.  Nothing,  indeed,  can  give  a  more  impressive  view 
of  the  benefits  of  proper  cultivation,  or  of  the  susceptibility  of  this 
faculty  to  the  influence  of  culture,  than  the  contrast  between  the  fee- 
ble and  futile  efforts  of  the  child  to  form  an  adequate  conception  of 
the  causes  of  the  most  ordinary  phenomena  of  daily  life,  and  the  com- 
prehensive grasp  of  conceptive  intelligence  with  which  the  mature 
mind  of  man  reads  the  great  volume  of  facts  and  their  relations,  and 
interprets  their  most  hidden  laws.  A  similar  contrast  is  exhibited  to 
us  in  the  wondering  ignorance  of  the  savage,  contemplating  the  vary- 
ing aspects  of  nature,  and  the  man  of  science,  to  whom  they  present 
themselves  as  necessary  results,  thoroughly  understood,  and  as  veri- 
fications of  philosophic  theory. 

The  mere  perceptions  of  the  child  or  of  the  savage  may  often  be 
more  exact  than  those  of  the  philosopher,  because  these  depend  on 
the  freshness  and  vividness  of  sensation.  But  the  conceptive  power  of 
the  mind  is,  to  a  great  extent,  the  result  of  the  force  of  processes 
purely  mental,  and  the  skill  and  exactness  with  which  these  are  con- 
ducted. In  such  operations,  practice  and  discipline  alone  can  yield 
perfection  as  a  result ;  and  for  success  in  them  the  candidate  must 
look  to  the  sustaining  aid  and  the  crowning  hand  of  education. 

If  we  would  form  even  the  humblest  idea  of  the  mental  value  of 
the  power  of  conception,  we  must  refer  to  all  that  man  has  achieved 
in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  or  the  attainment  of  truth ;  we  must 
advert  to  all  the  relations  which  he  sustains  to  things  lying  beyond 
the  sphere  of  sense,  in  the  wide  regions  of  opinion,  of  theory,  and  of 
sentiment;  we  must  include  his  views  of  his  own  position  in  the  uni- 
verse, his  views  of  the  character  of  Deity,  of  the  immortality  of  the 
soul,  of  the  obligations  of  duty,  of  his  social  and  civil  life,  and  of 
all  the  institutions  to  which  his  conceptions  of  these  various  relations 
have  given  origin. 

'  It  is  in  ^  these  wider  and  higher  references  that  conception,  as  a 
power  of  reflective  intelligence,  indicates  its  peculiar  rank  and  office. 
Working  by  the  blended  lights  of  reason  and  of  consciousness,  it  en- 
ables man  to  construct  the  fabrics  of  science  and  of  character,  by  a 
consecutive  progress  of  attainments  in  which  every  deposit  becomes 
but  a  substratum  for  another  in  the  series  of  an  indefinite  succession. 

(3.)  CONSCIOUSNESS  :  Etymology  of  the  Term. — The  etymologi- 
cal signification  of  this  term  invites  our  attention  for  a  moment,  to  the 
peculiar  suggestive  value  of  the  first  clement  in  the  composition  of 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  JQ9 

the  word.  Primitively,  the  meaning  of  this  element  is  fully  given  by 
the  equivalent  term  together,  always  implying  a  reference  to 
duality  or  plurality.  It  ranges,  accordingly,  over  the  whole  class  of 
synonyms  which  may  be  grouped  under  the  terms,  "collation," 
*'  apposition,"  u  union."  In  the  use,  therefore,  of  the  term  **  con- 
sciousness,"— since  the  root  of  the  word  signifies  knowledge,  or  intel- 
ligence,— the  mind  is  represented  as  acting  together  with,  or  in  union 
with,  itself — that  is,  with  self -intelligence.  The  prefix  of  the  term, 
in  this  instance,  accordinglv.  as  in  that  of  the  word  "  conception,"  has 
the  virtual  significance  of  inner,  inward,  or  interior,  and  suggests  the 
idea  of  the  mind  acting  on  itself,  on  the  objects  of  its  own  creation, 
or  on  the  subjects  of  its  own  reflective  conceptions. 

Fitness  of  its  Application. — There  is  a  striking  appropriateness, 
in  this  view,  of  the  term  "  consciousness  "  as  a  designation  for  that 
power  by  which  the  mind  becomes  capable  of  momentarily  detaching, 
as  it  were,  from  itself  the  idea  of  its  contemplation,  and  working  as  a 
two-fold  power ;  one  effort  of  which  is  to  hold  up  the  ideal  object,  and 
the  other  to  direct  a  wakeful  and  conscious  attention  to  it,  for  some 
purpose  of  examination  or  reflective  inquiry.  The  intelligent  princi- 
ple thus  works — according  to  the  interpretation  of  the  term — together 
with,  or  in  union  with  itself,  in  the  compound  or  two-fold  action  of 
conception,  and  attention ;  the  latter  being  introverted,  so  that  the 
mind  is  aware  of  its  own  condition. 

The  peculiar  fitness  of  the  term  in  question  becomes  yet  more  dis- 
tinctly apparent,  when  we  advert  to  the  common  fact  of  experience, 
that,  in  the  outward  tendencies  of  the  faculty  of  perception,  the  at- 
traction of  external  objects  is  often  so  powerful  and  absorbing  as  to 
cause  the  mind  to  "  lose  its  consciousness  "  in  the  contemplation  of 
what  it  beholds,  and  to  forget,  for  a  time,  its  own  existence,  in  the 
force  of  the  attraction  by  which  it  is  evoked,  or  the  intensity  of  the 
excitement  to  which  it  is  subjected,  and  which  it  temporarily  identifies 
with  the  object  of  its  attention.  In  the  state  of  consciousness,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  mind  is  self-possessed ;  it  is  aware  of  its  own 
state  of  thought  or  feeling,  and  voluntarily  dwells  on  the  fact  of 
introversion.  • 

Different  Opinions  on  the  Nature  of  this  Faculty. — Consciousness, 
as  a  term  applied  to  the  designation  of  a  mental  faculty  of  the  re- 
flective class,  is,  like  many  other  terms  in  the  nomenclature  of  intel- 
lectual analysis,  a  confessedly  imperfect  yet  significant  attempt  to  sug- 
gest a  perfect  recoginition  of  an  act  or  state  purely  internal.  The 
imperfection  here  felt,  attends  more  or  less  obviously,  yet  unavoidably, 
every  attempt  to  define  the  action  of  mind, — that  transcendent  power 


HO  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

whose  subtle  agencv  often  proves  too  fine  for  the  grasp  of  its  human 
representative,  language,  an  interpreter  whose  terms  are  all,  in 
consequence  of  the  limitations  of  humanity,  "of  the  earth,  earthy." 

The  diversity  of  opinion  among  intellectual  philosophers,  therefore, 
on  the  nature  of  this  power,  is  not  surprising.  Some  would  ignore 
its  existence  as  a  cognizable  faculty,  and  identify  it  with  the  mere  re- 
flex act  of  attention ;  others  elaborate  its  action  in  detail,  so  as  to 
identify  it  with  voluntary  and  prolonged  reflection.  Both  these 
classes  of  observers  evidently  take  the  ground  that  it  is  dependent  on 
the  exercise,  more  or  less  active,  of  the  will.  But  the  painful  act  of 
consciousness  in  the  experience  of  corporal  or  mental  suffering,  is 
often  altogether  involuntary,  and  resists,  sometimes,  the  strongest  ef- 
forts of  the  will,  even  in  the  loftiest  moods  of  heroism  itself;  and  the 
intellectual  attraction  of  a  mathematical  problem,  or  a  metaphysical 
question,  will  fascinate  the  conscious  thinker,  and  draw  him  on  invol- 
untarily, from  stage  to  stage  of  its  processes,  till,  in  the  poet's 
language,  he  "  forgets  himself  to  marble." 

Other  authorities  on  topics  of  intellectual  philosophy,  have  deemed 
it  more  rational  to  assume  that  consciousness  is  an  inseparable  attri- 
bute of  intelligence, — necessary  to  its  very  existence.  They  represent 
it  as  the  element  which  constitutes  the  dividing  line  between  thought 
and  mere  reverie,  between  judgment  and  imagination,  or,  sometimes, 
between  reason  and  insanity. 

Educational  View  of  this  Faculty. — For  the  preliminary  analysis 
which  the  intelligent  conductor  of  education  requires  as  his  guide  in 
the  planning  of  his  procedure,  it  is  sufficient,  perhaps,  to  take  the  ac- 
knowledged ground  that  consciousness  is  that  state,  act,  or  operation 
of  the  mind  in  which  it  is  aware  of  its  own  activity.  He  will,  from 
this  view  of  the  subject,  derive  two  most  important  conclusions :  (1,) 
that  the  vividness  and  distinctness  of  consciousness  must  always  be  in 
proportion  to  the  clearness,  exactness,  and  force  of  the  ideas  which 
are,  so  to  speak,  impressed  on  the  mind  from  without,  and  solicit  its 
conscious  action  as  subjects  of  thought ;  and  (2,)  that  the  definite- 
ness,  the  fullness,  and  the  depth  of  consciousness,  must  always  be  in 
proportion  to  the  power  of  directing  and  controlling  the  attention  of 
the  mind  with  reference  to  its  own  inward  acts  and  conditions'. 

Intellectual  and  Moral  Offices  of  Consciousness. — It  is  thus  that 
consciousness  assumes  its  true  place  as  a  reflective  faculty,  in  the  re- 
lations of  intellect,  as  the  power  by  which  the  mind  learns  to  see 
clearly  with  its  own  inner  eye,  to  define  with  accuracy  the  ideas  which 
conception  creates,  to  interpret  nature's  innermost  secrets  of  causation, 
to  follow  the  lengthening  processes  of  reason,  in  the  profoundest  depths 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  j  j  j 

of  investigation,  and  so  to  construct  the  magnificent  fabrics  of  pure 
science.  The  reflective  power  of  consciousness  becomes  yet  moie  im- 
pressive to  us,  when  we  regard  its  vast  influence  on  the  moral  rela- 
tions of  mental  action.  It  then  reveals  itself  as  an  agent  but  a  little 
lower  than  the  divine  element  of  conscience,  and  as  the  very  condition 
of  the  paramount  influence  of  that  power  over  heart,  will,  action,  and 
character.  In  the  unconscious  condition  of  childhood,  and  in  the 
immaturity  of  experience,  conscience  moves  with  the  light  step,  and 
the  gentle  hand  and  the  soft  accents  of  the  guiding  angel  of  Inno- 
cence. But  it  watches  with  a  jealous  eye,  restrains  with  a  firm  hand, 
controls  with  the  tone  of  command,  or  rebukes  with  the  voice  of  re- 
proach, the  conscious  agent  who,  in  maturity  of  years,  departs  from 
the  path  of  rectitude.  But  not  in  the  stern  monitions  or  the  agoniz- 
ing inflictions  of  remorse  alone,  does  conscience  act  on  consciousness. 
The  sting  and  the  lash  are  not  its  only  implements  of  discipline. 
Conscience  appeals  to  man's  conscious  power  for  good,  when  it  uses 
"  the  spur  which  the  clear  spirit  doth  raise,"  and  reminds  him  of  his 
position  "  but  a  little  lower  than  the  angels,"  his  resources  of  intel- 
lect, his  moral  ability,  his  relations  of  duty,  his  capacity  of  ceaseless 
progress,  his  desire  to  win  the  crown  of  excellence,  his  obligations  to  the 
Author  of  his  being,  and  his  aspirations  after  an  immortality  of  glory. 

Educational  Culture  of  this  Faculty. — The  educator,  therefore, 
while  he  would  guard  his  pupils  against  that  selfish  and  morbid  con- 
sciousness which  dwells  exclusively  on  the  condition  of  the  individual, 
and  keeps  him  forever  in  the  abstracted  mood  of  introspection  and  in- 
troversion, shut  up  in  the  cell  of  self,  and  withdrawn  from  usefulness 
to  others,  will  use  all  salutary  measures  to  give  vigor  and  life  and  full 
activity  to  this  powerful  element  of  mental  action  and  character. 

(4.)  REASON  :  Explanatory  Remark. — The  successive  changes 
which,  in  the  progress  of  time,  are  produced  on  the  original  meanings  of 
words,  will  sometimes  render  a  literal  adoption  of  the  primitive  sense 
of  any  term  an  uncertain  guide  in  metaphysical  investigations  con- 
nected with  the  action  and  phenomena  of  mind.  A  due  regard,  how- 
ever, to  the  etymological  structure  of  terms  employed  to  designate 
the  intellectual  faculties,  will  always  serve  to  suggest  useful  ideas  for 
the  guidance  and  direction  of  education.  Such  terms,  it  is  not  to  be 
forgotten,  had  their  origin  in  simple  and  primitive  states  of  human 
life  and  character,  and  are  therefore  exempt  from  the  uncertainty  and 
ambiguity  resulting  from  the  mental  condition  of  more  advanced 
stages  of  society,  in  which  opinion  is  refined,  by  false  as  well  as  true 
culture,  into  more  subtle  and  more  sceptical  forms,  and  sometimes 
tails  into  the  entangling  web  of  sophistry  and  false  judgment.  The 


112  CULTIVATION  Of  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

primitive  uses  of  language  betray,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  the  his- 
torical childhood  of  man  ;  but  they  possess,  also,  the  truthfulness, 
the  simplicity,  and  the  directness  of  that  stage ;  and  their  vivacious 
arid  figurative  character  always  render  them  strikingly  suggestive. 
In  philosophic  investigations  connected  with  the  analytic  study  of 
mind  and  the  adaptation  of  modes  of  culture  to  mental  discipline  and 
development,  the  primitive  signification  of  terms,  whether  it  be  literal 
or  figurative,  becomes,  at  least,  an  index  to  analysis,  which,  if  faith- 
fully traced,  may  lead  to  true  and  satisfactory  conclusions  on  topics 
otherwise  obscure  and  uncertain. 

Etymology  of  the  Term. — To  apply  this  remark  to  the  instance  be- 
fore us.  Clearer  conceptions  and  juster  views  of  the  faculty  which  we 
designate  by  the  term  "  reason,"  would  generally  prevail,  and  would 
exert  a  corresponding  influence  on  modes  of  mental  culture,  were  the 
original  meaning  of.  the  word  adverted  to  in  discussions  connected 
with  these  subjects.  The  word  "  reason  "  is  but  the  Latin  scientific 
term  "  ratio"  so  familiar  to  the  ear  and  rnind  of  every  teacher  and  every 
student  of  mathematics.  It  has  merely  undergone  some  slight  modifi- 
cations in  passingfrom  the  Latin  language,  through  the  French, into  our 
own.  Its  original  sense,  therefore,  suggests  the  idea  of  rate,  measure, 
or  computation,  as  a  conscious  application,  or  act,  of  intelligence  ; 
and  if  we  would  trace  the  simplest  and  purest  form  of  reason,  we 
thus  find  it  in  the  act  of  recognizing  or  constituting  rate,  or  ratio, 
which  in  complicated  processes,  becomes  proportion,  t>r  symmetry. 

Reason  characterized  by  the  Definiteness  and  Certainty  of  its  Action. 
— The  idea  suggested  by  the  primary  application  of  the  term  "  reason," 
is  that  of  de.fimteness  and  exactness  of  observation,  carried  even  to 
the  extent  of  examination  by  actual  measurement  or  computation.  No 
certainty  of  knowledge  can  be  greater  than  what  is  thus  intimated, 
when  the  inner  action  of  intellect  is  verified  by  a  direct  appeal  to  ob- 
jective reality  attested  by  sense ;  and,  in  the  legitimate  uses  of  lan- 
guage, the  measured  exactness  of  verified  observation  is  figuratively 
transferred  to  the  decisions  of  judgment  and  the  deductions  of  reason, 
in  the  comparison  and  examination  of  ideas  and  conceptions  begun, 
continued,  and  ended,  within  the  mind  itself. 

The  processes  of  thought  conducted  on  this  firm  ground,  possess  a 
definiteness  which  places  the  conclusions  of  reason  in  striking  contrast 
with  the  comparatively  vague  and  indefinite  intimations  of  feeling, 
around  which  the  boundary  line  of  distinction  can  not  with  certainty 
be  drawn,  even  in  the  most  vivid  states  of  consciousness.  The  ideas 
of  reason  stand  thus  contrasted,  also,  with  those  of  imagination, 
which  are  often  shadowy  and  indefinite,  inexact,  or  inadequate,  and 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  U3 

always  comparatively  fleeting  and  uncertain  ; — sometimes,  unreal  and 
false,  the  mere  flitting  phantoms  of  fancy.  The  purely  intellectual 
conceptions  of  reason,  as  subjects  of  the  mind's  own  inner  conscious- 
ness, are,  yet  further,  distinguished  from  the  merely  perceptive  action 
of  sense  and  understanding,  in  the  relations  of  intelligence  directed  to 
the  external  world.  Reason,  working  on  data  strictly  mental,  ever 
partakes  of  the  certainty  of  personal  knowledge  and  conviction,  which, 
to  the  individual, — whatever  it  may  be  to  others, — is,  in  its  proper 
relations,  the  surest  of  all  the  grounds  of  mental  action.  Our  senses, 
we  are  aware,  may  misinform  us  :  our  conscious  experience  can  not. 

Offices  of  Reason  in  Definition  and  Discrimination. — This  faculty, 
by  the  measured  accuracy  of  its  action,  becomes  the  means  of  defining 
our  ideas  and  discriminating  them  in  differential  detail.  It  groups 
them  in  the  genera  and  species  of  orderly  classification,  and  analyses 
the  complex  into  the  simple,  even  to  the  minutest  individual  element 
of  the  compound.  It  thus  enables  the  mind  to  search  and  scrutinize 
the  obscure  or  the  uncertain,  till  every  object  is  brought  out  into  the 
light  of  certainty  and  conscious  knowledege.  In  these,  as  in  all  other 
forms  in  which  this  faculty  is  exerted,  the  appropriateness  of  the  pri- 
mary application  of  the  term  by  which  it  is  designated,  is  distinctly 
perceived.  In  all  its  operations,  it  is  stable,  sure,  exact,  to  absolute 
certainty.  It  was  in  virtue  of  its  authority  that  the  great  modern 
philosopher  "  carried,"  as  has  been  happily  said,  "  the  measuring  line 
to  the  boundary  of  creation  ;"  and  all  its  inward  and  conscious 
exercises  partake  of  the  same  exactitude. 

Reason,  an  Authoritative  Power. — When  this  faculty  condescends 
to  its  humbler  offices  of  recognizing  the  intimations  of  sense,  and  ac- 
cumulating the  deposits  of  knowledge,  and  maintains  a  comparatively 
quiescent,  receptive,  or  passive  condition,  it  bears  the  unassuming 
designation  of  "  understanding  ;"  as  it  is  then  regarded  as  merely  fur- 
nishing the  groundwork,  or  under  stratum,  of  intelligence.  But 
when  it  assumes  the  higher  office  of  deciding  on  and  determining  the 
exact  relations  of  thought,  it  is  honored  by  the  highly  figurative  ap- 
pellation of  "judgment" — a  term  the  etymology  of  which  implies  the 
enunciation  of  right,  or  justice,  and  hence,  whatever,  also,  is  implied 
in  its  synonyms,  decree,  sentence,  or  decision.  Reason,  when  thus  oc- 
cupied in  comparing,  measuring,  or  exactly  estimating  things  or  their 
relations,  is,  by  the  use  of  language,  personified  as  the  judge,  whose 
office  it  is  to  scrutinize,  compare,  and  balance  evidence,  so  as  ultimate- 
ly to  decide  or  determine,  and  give  judgment,  sentence,  or  decree,  accord- 
ing to  the  usage  of  ancient  times,  when  it  was  that  officer's  preroga- 
tive to  discharge  the  office  ass'gn^d  to  our  modern  juries,  as  well  as 

1  H 


1 14:  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

that  still  recognized  as  proper  to  him  who  presides  in  the  court  of 
justice. 

When  this  master  faculty  of  human  intelligence  soars  to  a  yet  high- 
er pitch,  and  its  action,  whether  "  intuitive  or  discursive,"  embraces 
great  and  general  principles,  sees  or  traces  the  relations  of  necessary 
and  universal  truths,  and  announces  the  majesty  of  causation  and  of 
law,  it  resumes  its  wonted  designation  of  reason, — a  term  too  limited 
for  the  scope  and  grandeur  of  its  action,  and  the  dignity  of  its  office, 
as  man's  highest  functions,  in  the  relations  of  intellect. 

True,  it  fails  whenever  it  would  usurp  the  appointed  place  of  con- 
science, and  reason  man  into  perfect  rectitude,  or  when  it  presumes  to 
supersede  the  guardian  office  of  faith,  and  offers  man  the  guidance  of 
mere  intellection  to  the  recognition  of  a  paternal  God.  But,  limited 
as  it  is,  by  the  conditions  of  humanity,  it  still  is,  within  the  sphere  of 
pure  intelligence,  that  which  reflects  in  man  the  image  of  God,  and 
to  which,  in  healthy  and  normal  conditions,  all  his  other  intellectual 
powers  pay  homage. 

Reason  as  cognizant  of  Relations. — Reverting  to  the  primitive 
sense  of  the  term  "  reason,"  as  recognized  in  the  application  of  the 
word  " ratio"  to  processes  of  measurement  connected  with  time  and 
space,  and  figuratively  transferred  to  operations  purely  intellectual, 
we  are  reminded  that,  in  all  such  processes,  one  object  or  subject  is 
referred  to  another,  with  a  view  to  determine  or  define  a  connection 
of  some  sort  or  other  between  them.  This  fact  accounts  for  the  usage 
in  language  by  which  reason  is  represented  as  the  faculty  which 
takes  cognizance  of,  or  traces,  relations  in  general,  or,  in  other  words, 
refers  one  thing  to  another,  for  purposes  of  examination,  comparison, 
or  investigation,  with  a  view  to  ascertain  their  connection,  or  their 
independence  of  each  other,  as  an  element  of  thought  essential  to  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge  or  to  the  discovery  of  truth.  The  mind  is 
thus  introduced  into  a  sphere  of  action  coextensive  with  all  the  out- 
ward objects  and  inward  subjects  of  thought,  and  expatiates,  with  the 
delight  of  conscious  freedom  and  power,  in  the  two  great  domains 
with  which  it  is  endowed  as  its  heritage  and  birth-right ;  for  reason, 
not  less  than  imagination  is  an  excursive  faculty,  designed  to  give 
amplitude  and  expansion  to  the  being  of  man;  and  many  of  the 
grandest  creations  of  the  latter,  are  those  which  it  achieves  when  fol- 
lowing the  sure  and  firm  steps  of  the  former,  in  its  excursions  into  the 
unexplored. 

Reason  as  an  Inventive  Faculty. — The  reference  of  one  object  or 
idea  to  another,  the  comparison  of  one  with  another,  or  the  discovered 
relation  of  one  to  another,  yields  within  the  mind  itself,  as  a  result,  a 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  H5 

third  idea,  or  conception,  a  creation  of  its  own.  Reason  thus  becomes 
a  combining,  creative,  and  inventive,  (finding)  faculty,  not  less  than 
imagination  is,  in  its  peculiar  sphere ;  and,  by  following  its  well  as- 
certained discoveries  through  their  long  and  complicated  successions 
of  ever  fresh-springing  truth,  attains,  at  length,  the  conscious  power 
to  move  in  new  spheres  of  knowledge,  created  by  its  own  activity, 
and  in  which  it  furnishes  its  own  material,  and  erects  its.  own  structures. 
It  is  thus  that  it  empowers  man  to  fu!6ll  the  poet's  condition  of 
"  erecting  himself  above  himself."  Reason,  not  less  than  its  noble 
kindred  powers,  Faith  and  Imagination,  is  then  justly  said  to  "  soar." 

In  the  processes  of  investigation  in  which  the  mind  pursues  its 
quest  of  knowledge  as  the  guide  to  truth,  reason  becomes  the  master 
key  of  intelligence,  the  paramount  authority  of  intellect,  the  law 
which  gives  order  and  unity  to  man's  intellectual  being,  the  crown 
and  glory  of  humanity  in  its  distinctive  supremacy  over  the  lower 
tribes  of  partially  intelligent  nature. 

Aberration  of  Reason. — When  disease  or  passion  has  beclouded, 
or  disturbed,  or  deranged  this  power,  which  heaven  has  ordained  as  the 
executive  of  its  own  first  law  of  order,  in  the  gradations  of  intelligence, 
man  is  then  dethroned  and  discrowned  ;  and,  with  the  eye  of  his  mind 
extinguished,  wanders,  like  the  blind  champion  of  old,  seeking  some 
one  to  lead  him  by  the  hand. 

Reason  in  the  processes  of  Analysis  and  Abstraction. — When  this 
faculty  is  occupied  with  the  processes  of  collating  and  comparing,  for 
purposes  of  discrimination,  its  action  assumes  the  form  of  "  analysis," 
(loosening,  detaching,  or  resolving,)  so  as  to  simplify  the  objects  or 
subjects  of  contemplation,  and  scan  their  utmost  details  of  individual- 
ity, in  character,  that  the  component  elements  of  the  concrete  may  be 
distinctly  recognized,  in  all  their  differential  relations.  Subjected  to 
this  process,  the  genus,  or  general  class,  is  reduced  to  its  component 
species,  and  these,  in  turn,  to  the  varieties  or  the  individuals  of  which 
they  consist.  Last  of  all,  the  scrutiny  must  be  extended  to  the  differ- 
ence between  individual  and  individual,  or  where  still  more  minute  ex- 
amination is  required,  to  the  distinctive  elements  which  maybe  found 
comprised  within  the  unity  of  the  individual. 

Such,  in  our  previous  discussion  of  subjects  involved  in  the  theory 
of  education,  we  found  to  be  the  requisite  action  of  the  mind  in  the 
exercise  of  the  perceptive  faculties,  when  observation  descends  to  the 
minutiae  of  difference  on  which  true  distinctions  are  founded.  A  sim- 
ilar operation  goes  on  in  the  interior  world  of  conception,  when  the 
reflective  faculties  are  called  into  their  peculiar  province,  when  the  com 
plex  ideas  or  thoughts  of  the  mind  are  subjected  to  the  processes  of 


HQ  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES 

scrutiny  and  analysis,  and  the  qualities  of  objects,  or  of  ideas,  are,  by 
an  act  of  abstraction,  (taking  away,  withdrawing,}  considered  sepa- 
rately, as  if  they  had  for  the  moment,  an  independent  existence. 
One  quality  of  an  object,  one  attribute  of  a  subject,  is,  by  this  concen- 
trated and  exclusive  act  of  attention,  "abstracted,"  (drawn  away,)  or 
detached,  mentally,  from  the  object  itself,  and  from  all  the  other 
qualities  of  which  it  is  possessed.  The  mind  is,  in  consequence  of  this 
act  of  "  abstraction,"  enabled  to  contemplate  more  distinctly,  or  to 
examine  more  closely  and  discriminate  more  exactly,  the  given  quality. 
The  quality  so  discriminated  may,  in  turn,  become  the  groundwork 
of  classification,  or  the  commencement  of  a  train  of  abstract  reason- 
ing on  broad  and  general  principles  connected  with  the  laws  of  nature 
and  the  truths  of  science. 

Intuition. — The  immediate  action  of  reason  by  which  it  assents  to 
self-evident  and  necessary  truths,  on  mere  "  intuition,"  (inspection  or 
sight,)  without  the  aid  of  any  intermediate  or  intervening  thought  for 
the  discovery  of  sameness  or  difference,  might,  at  first  view,  seern  to 
be  improperly  introduced  in  a  survey  of  the  reflective  faculties  or  of 
educational  processes  for  development.  But,  the  intuitive  exercise  of 
reason  is,  not  unfrequently,  the  basis  of  its  reflective  action,  and,  some- 
times, is  the  authority  to  which  it  appeals,  when  prosecuting  examina- 
tion and  inquiry  to  the  profoundest  depths  of  research. 

Processes  of  Inference  and  Deduction. — Reason,  as  the  faculty  by 
which  one  object  or  idea  is  referred  to  another,  in  virtue  of  some  real 
or  supposed  connection  existing  between  them,  takes  cognizance  of 
antecedence  and  consequence;  and,  when  this  relation  is,  in  given 
circumstances,  observed  to  be  uniform,  reason,  working  by  the  great 
law  of  analogy,  "  infers,"  (brings  in,)  the  continuance  of  this  uniformity 
as  a  necessary  principle  or  law  of  order.  In  such  instances,  this 
"  inference,"  supported  by  the  undeviating  testimony  of  personal  or 
accredited  experience,  becomes  a  firm  belief,  which  identifies  uni- 
formity of  antecedence  with  the  power  of  causation,  and  uniformity  of 
sequence  with  the  character  of  effect.  Sequence  thus  becomes  the  law 
of  rational  connection,  and  a  security  for  the  attainment  of  truth  in 
matters  of  theory  referring  to  the  external  universe. 

In  the  consecutive  internal  acts  of  mind,  reason  gives  "  sequence  " 
to  the  relations  of  thought,  in  exercises  purely  discursive  and  intellec- 
tual, by  recognizing  the  dependence  of  one  idea  or  conception  on  an- 
other, in  the  relation  of  effect  to  cause.  From  one  defined  antecedent 
idea  the  mind  is  authorized  to  "  infer"  another,  as  a  consequence  ;  from 
"premises,"  (thoughts  antecedent,)  to  "deduce,"  (draw  down,  derive^} 
K  conclusions,"  (closes,)  results,  or  final  consequences ;  and  thus,  by 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  ^f 

giving  certainty  to  opinion  and  assurance  to  belief,  in  relations  purely 
mental,  it  forges  the  successive  links  of  that  golden  chain  of  intellectual 
necessity  which  binds  together  the  elements  of  the  moral  world. 

Reason,  in  its  processes  of  Generalization  and  Induction. — In  the 
wider  action  of  this  sovereign  power,  it  takes  that  highest  course  of 
which  human  intellect  is  capable  ;  and,  in  tracing  the  relations  of 
causation,  aspires,  by  its  power  of  generalization  and  its  processes  of 
induction,  to  announce  and  interpret  the  laws  of  the  universe,  and  to 
read  the  evidences  of  a  First  ordaining  Cause. 

In  these  excursions,  reason  gathers  in,  from  the  vast  field  of  anal- 
ogy, corresponding  facts  and  relations ;  and,  in  virtue  of  that  pervad- 
ing unity  which  comparison  has  enabled  it  to  discover  as  existing 
among  them,  recognizes  that  spacious  principle  of  generality  coexten- 
sive with  its  own  capacities  of  thought,  by  which  it  rises  above  the 
limits  of  the  concrete  and  the  particular  to  the  contemplation  of  those 
abstract  ideas  and  comprehensive  principles  which  constitute  the 
prime  elements  of  intellectual  and  moral  truth,  and  which  bear  the 
stamp  of  supremacy  and  the  inscription  of  Law,  human  or  Divine. 

Not  less  impressive  or  sublime  is  the  action  of  this  .august  faculty 
of  the  human  soul,  when  it  puts  forth  its  constructive  power,  and, 
aided  by  the  scrutiny  of  patient  experiment,  it  verifies  the  analogies 
of  phenomena  and  of  fact,  "  inducts ''  them,  (leads  them,)  into  their  ap- 
propriate groups  of  affinity  and  correlation,  plies  them  with  its  tenta- 
tive, magnetic,  aggregating  power  of  "  hypothesis,"  (theoretic,  inter- 
rogative assumption^)  and,  by  careful  induction,  at  last  consummates 
the  vast  fabric  of  "  theory,"  (intellectual  vision,)  whose  foundations 
are  laid  in  the  certainty  of  knowledge,  and  whose  walls  rise,  in  the 
symmetry  of  truth,  to  heights  which  inspire  the  mind  with  awe. 

Ratiocination. — In  the  dimness  of  abstract  conceptions,  in  the  ob- 
scurity of  abstruse  relations  of  thought,  or  in  the  apparent  conflict  of 
contrasted  truths,  when  the  eviction  of  hidden  causes,  or  when  the 
detection  of  intermediate  and  reconciling  principles,  becomes  essential 
to  the  conscious  recognition  of  ideas,  to  the  distinct  conception  of  re- 
lations, or  to  the  firm  conviction  of  truth,  reason  comes  to  the  mind 
laboring  under  uncertainty,  and  brings  the  aid  of  its  discursive  pro- 
cesses of  ratiocination,  in  the  form  of  dissertation,  argument,  discus- 
sion, and  debate.  Assuming  the  seat  of  judgment,  it  thus  institutes 
inquiry,  conducts  examination,  prosecutes  investigation,  discriminates 
terms,  scrutinizes  allegations,  compares  conflicting  arguments,  weighs 
opposing  evidence,  judges  of  facts,  rejects  assumptions,  exposes  error, 
detects  truth  or  falsehood,  and  pronounces  its  authoritive  and  final 
decision,  as  the  inevitable  law  of  intellection. 


118  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

Reason,  as  cognizant  of  Truth. — Reason,  in  its  judicial  capacity, 
traces,  or  recognizes  and  announces,  the  correspondence  or  the  dis- 
crepance of  idea  with  object,  thought  with  fact,  conception  with  con- 
ception, principle  with  principle,  proposition  with  proposition, 
sentiment  with  sentiment,  opinion  and  statement  with  fact,  language 
with  thought,  argument  with  argument,  effect  with  cause.  It  thus, 
by  the  eviction  of  truth,  produces  in  the  mind  the  result  of  conviction; 
and  truth,  as  the  consummated  and  perfect  result  of  the  action  of 
reason,  in  its  cognizance  of  the  ascertained  relations  of  knowledge, 
demands,  in  virtue  of  the  supremacy  and  authority  of  the  faculty  by 
whose  agency  it  is  discovered,  the  assent  of  the  mind,  in  the  form 
which  we  term  belief, — not  a  bare  comprehension  or  merely  passive 
reception  by  the  understanding,  not  the  mere  negative  acquiescence 
or  silent  admission  of  \\\v  judgment,  but  the  consentaneous  recognition 
and  adoption  which  come  from  the  voluntary  action  of  reason*,  uni- 
ting itself  with  the  subject  of  its  contemplation,  and  identifying  with 
it  all  its  own  consequent  action.  Reason,  therefore,  has  to  do  with 
all  the  preliminary  processes  by  which  truth  is  established  ;  and  in 
the  moral  no.t  less  than  in  the  intellectual  relations  of  thought,  has, 
for  its  office,  the  sifting  of  evidence,  the  scrutiny  of  testimony,  the 
weighing  of  proof ;  on  the  validity  of  all  which,  belief,  as  the  normal 
and  healthy  tendency  of  the  mind,  is  conditioned.  In  the  yet  higher 
sphere  of  Sacred  truth,  belief  becomes  subsidiary  to  the  Faith  which 
trusts. 

Reason,  as  susceptible  of  Cultivation. — As  the  subject  of  disciplin- 
ary culture,  this  faculty  presents  itself  to  the  educator  as  that  to  which 
his  chief  attention  is  due,  in  the  relations  of  intellect,  not  only  from 
its  supremacy  in  the  class  of  faculties  to  which  it  belongs,  and  the 
fact  of  its  being  the  very  constituent  of  intelligence,  but  from  its  pe- 
culiar susceptibility  of  development  and  training,  and  the  extent  to 
which  it  may  be  rendered  clear,  decisive,  vigorous,  and  comprehen- 
sive, by 'appropriate  exercise.  No  faculty  reveals  more  distinctly  than 
this  the  progressive  character  of  man,  as  an  intelligent  agent,  if  we 
advert  to  its  dim,  uncertain,  and  feeble  action  in  childhood,  and  its 
ceaseless  growth  ia  soundness,  clearness,  and  vigor,  as  life  advances 
to  its  maturity.  But  when  we  contrast  the  reasoning  powers  of  such 
individuals  as  Newton,  Locke,  Butler,  or  Edwards,  in  manhood,  with 
the  mere  germ  of  latent  capability  which  they  possessed  in  infancy, 
we  perceive  yet  more  distinctly  what  education  may  accomplish  for 
the  eduction  and  strengthening  of  this  powerful  element  in  the 
mental  constitution  of  man. 

The  cultivation  of  this  faculty  becomes  yet  more  important  in  its 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  H9 

results,  when  we  advert  to  its  value  in  the  relation  of  morals.  Reason 
is  naturally  the  firm  ally  of  conscience,  in  discriminating  between 
right  and  wrong,  and  in  instituting  those  reflective  trains  of  thought 
by  which  man  is  arrested  in  the  pursuit  of  sensual  gratification,  and 
called  home  to  himself,  in  the  conscious  exercise  of  higher  faculties, 
in  the  enjoyment  of  truer  satisfactions,  and  in  obedience  to  the  recti- 
tude which  he  feels  to  be  the  great  law  of  his  being.  Reason,  in  co- 
operation with  conscience,  then  becomes  the  regulating  principle  of 
his  actions ;  raising  them  from  mere  obedience  to  prudence  and 
judgment,  and  conservative  propriety,  to  the  higher  influences  of  self- 
intelligence,  consentaneous  action,  and  rational  conformity  with  the 
laws  and  conditions  of  his  own  nature,  and  of  the  Power  by  which 
those  laws  were  ordained.  Reason  is  the  eye  by  which  he  learns  to 
read  the  volume  of  revelation, — whether  that  written  in  the  language 
of  the  "  elder  Scripture,"  which  speaks  of  the  "  eternal  power  and 
godhead  of  the  Creator,"  or  that  of  the  recorded  Word  which  makes 
man  "wise  unto  salvation." 

(5.  and  6.)  JUDGMENT  AND  UNDERSTANDING  :  their  Identity  with 
Reason. — It  has  been  justly  remarked  by  an  eminent  writer  on  intel- 
lectual philosophy,  that,  in  arbitrarily  multiplying  the  number  of  fac- 
ulties attributed  to  the  mind,  we  confuse  our  own  views  of  mental 
action,  and  lose  rather  than  gain  by  such  uses  of  analysis.  In  the 
prosecution  of  our  present  inquiries,  it  will  be  recollected,  that  it  has 
been  uniformly  our  endeavor  to  keep  in  mind  the  absolute  unity  of 
intellection,  under  whatever  apparent  diversity  of  processes  it  con- 
ducts its  action ;  and  the  preceding  observations  on  reason,  as  a  re- 
flective faculty,  have,  it  may  have  been  perceived,  presented  the 
operations  of  judgment  and  understanding  as  virtually  but  different 
functions  of  reason.  To  venture  on  a  figure  drawn  from  the  sciences 
of  observation  :  Reason  may  be  regarded  as  bearing  the  relation  of 
44 genus  "  to  judgment  and  understanding  as  "species."  Reason  sur- 
veys the  whole  ground  of  intellection,  whether  directed  outward  or 
inward ;  it  works  in  the  great  field  of  analogy,  and  on  the  common 
ground  of  correlation,  colendency  and  consistency,  in  the  universal 
sphere  of  thought.  In  its  comprehensive  action,  it  proclaims  the 
harmonies  of  the  universe.  It  has  the  power,  therefore,  of  investiga- 
ting and  proving  analogies,  and,  consequently,  of  rejecting  discordant 
elements.  Descending  to  this  task,  reason  becomes,  in  the  vocabulary 
of  intellection,  "judgment."  Stooping  yet  lower,  to  trace  and  verify 
relations  of  humbler  value,  or  of  exterior  character,  or  processes  of 
passive  reception  of  knowledge  or  of  truth,  it  assumes  the  lower  office 
and  familiar  name  of  "  understanding." 


120  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

Maintaining  the  justness  of  this  definition  of  the  faculty  of  reason, 
we  would  not,  however,  overlook  the  fact,  so  important  to  the  right 
management  of  education,  that  the  more  closely  we  watch  the  oper- 
ations of  intellect,  the  more  searching  the  investigation,  and  the  more 
minute  our  analysis,  we  shall  be  the  better  prepared  to  minister  to 
the  manifold  wants  of  the  mind,  and  to  its  healthful  development. 
The  subdivision  of  reason  into  "judgment"  and  "understanding,"  if 
taken  as  merely  a  temporary  assumption  of  theory,  with  a  view  to 
fuller  provision  for  mental  action  and  discipline,  can  not  be  objected 
to ;  and,  indeed,  the  common  branches  of  useful  knowledge  and  of 
scientific  acquirement  which  constitute  the  material  and  media  of 
intellectual  education,  address  themselves  distinctively  to  that  classifi- 
cation of  the  mental  faculties  which  is  commonly  adopted  or  recog- 
nized. Of  these  we  shall  have  occasion  to  speak,  when  discussing  the 
modes  and  processes  of  culture.  Nor  can  any  detriment  to  a  just 
view  of  mind  as  subjected  to  invigorating  discipline,  arise  from  adopt- 
ing, for  the  time,  that  more  comprehensive  classification  of  the  forms 
of  mental  action,  which  is  now  proposed. 

An  extensive  course  of  study  in  every  department  of  mental  phil- 
osophy, can  not  be  too  earnestly  urged  on  the  attention  of  all  teachers 
who  are  so  situated  as  to  exert  a  controlling  or  directing  influence  on 
the  plan  of  education,  or  to  enjoy  adequate  opportunities  of  pursuing 
a  full  course  of  professional  reading.  No  serious  evil  will  in  this  way 
be  incurred,  even  if  the  teacher  become,  in  consequence  of  his  studies, 
the  disciple  of  a  particular  school  of  metaphysics  or  psychology  ; 
provided  he  do  not  lose  sight  of  the  great  fact  that,  as  a  teacher,  he 
is  called  to  work  as  a  personal  and  original  observer  of  the  actual 
workings  and  tendencies  of  the  young  mind  itself,  and,  as  its  guide 
and  director,  to  proceed  according  to  his  own  personal  observation 
and  convictions,  independently  of  all  theories  and  speculations  of  a 
merely  abstract  character. 

One  of  the  greatest  metaphysicians  of  modern  times* — who,  more 
than  any  writer  or  teacher  on  his  class  of  subjects,  is  entitled  to  the 
rank  of  an  authority — who,  to  a  depth  of  research  and  a  profound- 
ness of  learning  which  man  has  seldom  attained,  adds  the  simplicity, 
the  docility,  and  the  candor  of  a  child  in  the  attitude  of  inquiry — 
has  most  justly  said  to  the  student  of  mental  philosophy :  "  If  he  only 
effectively  pursue  the  method  of  observation  arid  analysis,  he  may 
even  dispense  with  the  study  of  philosophical  systems.  This  is,  at 
best,  only  useful  as  a  mean  toward  a  deeper  and  more  varied  study 
of  himself,  and  is  often  only  a  tribute  paid  by  philosophy  to  erudi- 

*  Sir  William  Hamilton. 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

the  same  characteristic  frankness  he  remar 
connection,  that  psychology  (the  direct  study  of  mind)  is  yet  incom- 
plete as  a  science;  since  the  phenomena  of  which  it  takes  cognizance 
have  not  yet  been  exhaustively  enumerated  or  defined,  and  speaks,  at 
the  same  time,  of  the  service  which,  in  this  respect,  might  be  rendered 
to  philosophy  by  adequate  investigation  and  faithful  reporting. 

To  so  noble  an  office  no  candidate  can  more  justly  aspire  than  the 
intelligent  teacher.  His  occupation  renders  him  conversant  with 
mind  in  its  purest  and  truest  states,  its  primal  tendencies  and  aspira- 
tions, its  incipient  endeavors,  and  forming  habits. 

II.    THE  ACTUATING  PRINCIPLE   OF  THE   REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES: 

INQUIRY. 

Its  analor/y  to  Curiosity. — When  we  trace  the  natural  development 
of  the  human  faculties,  in  their  first  stage  of  perceptive  action,  we 
observe  them  working  by  a  law  of  incitement  manifesting  itself  in  the 
restless  principle  of  curiosity, — the  desire  of  knowledge.  It  is  this 
feeling  which  prompts  the  child's  appealing  question,  as  he  points  to 
a  new  object  that  has  attracted  his  attention, — "  What  is  this  ?''  But, 
as  his  reflective  power  developes,  and  his  capacity  of  knowledge 
enlarges,  his  desire  of  information  pierces  deeper ;  and  his  interroga- 
tion takes  a  shape  which  indicates  a  more  profound  exercise  of  thought. 
He  now  inquires  not "  What  is  this  ?"— but  "How?  or  "  Why  is  this  ?" 

Reason,  as  the  principle  of  intelligence  which  gleans  and  assorts  the 
contributions  of  knowledge,  has  helped  him  to  understand  the  exterior 
character  of  the  object  of  his  attention,  and  by  the  due  exercise  of 
judgment,  in  analytic  observation,  to  distinguish,  and  classify,  and 
denominate  it  accordingly.  But  a  deeper  thirst  than  mere  curiosity 
as  to  external  phenomena  and  characteristics,  now  actuates  him  :  a 
more  powerful  instinct  is  at  work  within  him.  Reason  has  reached 
a  maturer  stage  of  development,  and,  prompted  by  inquiry,  sets  out 
the  young  explorer  in  quest  not  of  mere  facts,  but  of  relations  and 
causes.  He  thus  learns  to  trace  the  successive  links  of  connected 
phenomena  and  facts, — to  investigate  the  connection  itself,  and  deter- 
mine its  character,  to  search  for  interior  and  hidden  springs  of  sequence, 
to  arrive  at  principles  and  causes,  to  read  and  interpret  laws,  and, 
ultimately,  to  reach  the  certainty  and  the  completeness  of  science. 

The  appetite  of  curiosity  is  satisfied  with  the  knowledge  of  phenome- 
na and  of  facts  individually,  or  even  as  detached  matters  of  observa- 
tion :  inquiry  is  restless  till  it  arrives  at  their  connections  and  depend- 
encies, and  the  mind  is  thus  put  in  possession  of  those  relations  of 
knowledge  which  constitute  principles  and  establish  truth.  As  an 
impelling  and  actuating  force,  inquiry,  or  inquisition,  performs  for  the 
intellectual  powers,  in  their  comparative  maturity,  the  same  genial 


122  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES 

office  which  was  discharged  by  the  awakening  influence  of  curiosity 
at  an  earlier  stage  of  mental  activity.  It  is,  in  fact,  but  the  same 
instinctive  law  of  the  irrepressible  desire  to  know,  only  working  in  a 
higher  sphere,  and  for  a  higher  end.  Curiosity,  working  on  the  per- 
ceptive faculties,  induces  a  tendency  to  observation,  and  forms  the 
habit  of  wakeful  attention  to  external  phenomena,  as  the  elements  of 
KNOWLEDGE  I  inquiry,  as  the  expressed  desire  to  ascertain  relations, 
principles,  and  laws,  awakens  the  reflective  faculties,  and  impels  to 
investigation,  with  a  view  to  the  discovery  of  TRUTH.  In  the  develop- 
ment and  formation  of  mental  character,  curiosity,  as  the  desire  of 
knowledge,  tends  to  create  an  attentive  and  observing  mind,  character- 
ized by  intelligence:  inquiry,  as  the  quest  of  truth,  produces  a  con- 
templative, thoughtful,  reflective,  reasoning  mind,  addicted  to  explora- 
tion and  research,  and  delighting  in  the  attainments  of  science. 

But  in  this  higher  sphere  of  intellectual  activity,  the  human  being 
is  still  acting  under  the  guidance  of  an  implanted  instinct; — no 
longer,  indeed,  a  mere  unconscious  stimulus,  but  a  conscious  and 
recognized  impulse  of  progression  toward  a  definite  end  and  a  satisfy- 
ing consummation.  The  tendency,  however,  proves  itself  equally 
irr  sistible  in  the  one  form  as  in  the  other.  For,  while  the  child  is 
sometimes  so  absorbed  in  the  contemplati  >n  of  the  visible  attractions 
of  objects  of  beauty  or  of  curiosity,  as  to  forego  even  the  calls  of  appe- 
tite for  the  sustenance  of  his  body,  in  obedience  to  the  more  imperious 
claims  of  the  wants  of  his  intellectual  nature  ;  the  adult  man  may  lose 
himself  yet  more  profoundly,  when  inquiry  compels  him  to  investiga- 
tion, and  plunges  him  into  depths  of  thought  in  which  he  becomes 
lost  to  all  surrounding  objects  and  relations,  and,  like  Newton,  medi- 
tates on  the  fall  of  an  apple,  with  an  intensity  and  concentration  of 
reflective  attention  which  beguile  him  of  needed  sleep,  and  render  him 
unaware  of  the  presence  of  food  or  of  the  fact  of  his  having  omitted 
its  use. 

III.  THE  TENDENCY   OF   ACTION  IN  THE   REFLECTIVE    FACULTIES  . 
INVESTIGATION. 

Its  manifold  directions. — Inquiry,  as  the  grand  prompter  of  the 
reflective  faculties,  impels  to  habits  of  investigation  and  research.  It 
not  only  leads  to  the  scrutiny  of  the  present,  in  quest  of  causes  and  of 
truth,  but  ransacks  the  records  of  the  past,  and  penetrates  into  the 
probabilities  of  the  future.  It  impels  reason  to  explore  the  inmost 
recesses  of  nature,  in  pursuit  of  latent  causes.  It  prompts  man  to  con- 
duct the  experiments  by  which  he  interrogates  nature  of  her  processes, 
and  wins,  as  the  reward  of  his  faithful  inquest,  the  answers  which  he 
records  in  the  archives  of  science.  In  the  relations  of  moral  truth,  it 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  123 

compels  the  investigation  of  evidence,  the  verifying  of  proofs,  the  sift- 
ing of  testimony,  for  the  attaining  of  certainty  and  the  confirmation  of 
belief.  But  for  its  influence,  the  world  would  be  to  man  a  mass  of 
unconnected  objects  or  facts  :  he  would  be  to  himself  a  mere  embodi- 
ment of  inconsistent  elements,  unintelligible  and  destitute  of  purpose. 

Examples  of  the  spirit  of  Investigation. — Incited  by  this  principle, 
the  naturalist  explores  the  remotest  regions  of  earth,  to  contemplate5 
the  productions  of  nature,  to  survey  the  great  features  of  the  globe, 
its  various  aspects  of  scenery,  its  mountains  and  rivers,  its  atmospheric 
phenomena,  its  mineral,  vegetable,  and  animal  products,  and  the 
mutual  relations  of  cause  and  effect  which  all  these  bear  to  each  other. 

The  scientific  voyager  and  traveler,  impelled  by  the  irrepressible 
desire  to  prosecute  his  favorite  researches,  patiently  endures  fatigue, 
and  sickness,  and  exhaustion,  through  every  extreme  of  heat  or  cold ; 
he  exiles  himself  from  society,  for  months  and  years,  to  pursue  his 
solitary  investigations  ;  regardless  of  danger  and  difficulty,  he  bravely 
encounters  every  obstacle,  and  patiently  endures  every  form  of  pain 
and  privation.  He  goes  forth  with  the  spirit  and  hardihood  of  an 
invader,  to  extend  the  domain  of  science,  and  returns  laden  with  the 
trophies  of  victory,  in  discoveries  which  enlighten  and  enrich  the 
human  race. 

In  the  same  spirit  of  investigation,  the  astronomer  secludes  himself, 
for  successive  months  and  years,  to  contemplate  and  record  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  heavens,  and  to  immure  himself  in  those  labyrinths  of 
computation  by  which  the  sublime  truths  of  his  noble  science  are 
investigated  and  revealed. 

Actuated  by  the  same  principle,  the  historian  pursues  his  laborious 
researches  in  the  records  of  remotest  time,  in  the  half-effaced  carving 
on  the  crumbling  monument,  or  the  dim  characters  on  the  decaying 
parchment,  — in  the  obscure  tradition  or  superstitious  myth, — where- 
ever  a  gleam  or  a  spark  of  truth  is  to  be  found  regarding  the  past  life 
"of  man  on  earth.  From  his  devotion  to  such  investigations,  no  fresh 
charm  of  nature,  or  invitation  of  social  delight,  can  induce  him  to 
withdraw,  till  he  has  sifted  every  alledged  fact,  verified  every  event, 
dispersed  the  clouds  of  fable,  and  let  in  the  pure  light  of  truth  upon 
the  historic  page. 

The  philologist,  in  quest  of  a  particle  of  meaning  or  significant  value 
in  the  component  elements  of  a  word,  is  another  impressive  example 
of  the  spirit  of  inquiry  leading  to  profoundest  research.  Whole  years, 
nay,  a  long  life,  are  joyfully  devoted  by  him  to  such  pursuits. 
Language  after  language,  by  his  slow  but  sure  processes  of  mining  and 
sapping,  is  forced  to  give  way  to  his  irresistible  energy  and  persevering 


124  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

toil.  Nothing  can  divert  his  attention,  or  turn  him  from  his  course 
of  persistent  indagation.  A  syllable  or  a  letter,  he  feels  assured, 
contains  a  secreted  gem  of  meaning,  the  investigation  of  which  will 
put  him  in  possession  of  wealth  untold  ;  and  that  element  he  will 
trace,  at  whatever  cost  of  persevering  investigation,  through  libraries 
and  through  languages,  till  the  lustre  of  the  intellectual  diamond  beams 
full  upon  his  mind.  His  personal  acquisition,  purchased  at  such  a 
price,  becomes,  in  due  season,  through  the  instrumentality  of  his 
devoted  labors,  the  common  property  of  the  intellectual  world. 

The  investigations  of  the  mechanician  into  the  laws  and  forces  of 
nature,  again  exemplify  the  power  which  the  spirit  of  inquiry  exerts 
over  the  human  mind,  and  the  value  of  the  results  to  which  it  leads. 
The  long  and  complicated  processes  of  computation  by  which  the 
devoted  servant  of  science  pursues  his  study  of  its  principles,  when 
occupied  with  the  intricate  combinations  involved  in  the  invention  of 
some  device  of  mechanism,  by  which  the  well-being  of  mankind  may 
be  promoted  for  ages  ;  the  unabating  ardor  with  which,  in  spite  of 
every  discouragement,  he  continues  to  consume  fortune  and  life  in  the 
prosecution  of  his  purpose  ; — all  indicate  the  moving  force  of  the  men- 
tal principle  by  which  his  own  interior  world  of  invention  and  contriv- 
ance is  actuated  ;  and  the  results  ultimately  obtained  reveal  the  value 
of  the  intellectual  habits  which  are  concerned  in  the  processes  of 
investigation. 

The  chemist,  interrogating  nature,  as  he  investigates  the  constitution 
of  her  elements,  is  yet  another  forcible  example  of  the  same  spirit. 
At  the  risk,  sometimes,  of  life  itself,  he  pursues  his  inquest  of  hidden 
relations,  perplexing  facts,  and  hitherto  undiscovered  elements  and 
undeveloped  forces,  till  he  is  enabled  to  enlighten  the  world  by  the 
revelation  of  a  new  material  in  the  construction  of  the  physical 
universe,  and  an  invaluable  aid  to  the  welfare  of  man. 

Investigation,  in  all  the  relations  of  mental  action,  is,  in  brief,  the 
just  price  of  labor,  which  man  is  doomed  to  pay  for  value  received. 
The  noblest  of  all  intellectual  acquirements,  the  grandest  discoveries 
and  most  useful  inventions,  are  due  alike  to  this  process  by  which  the 
mind  is  enabled  to  read,  whether  in  the  world  of  matter  or  that  of 
spirit,  the  laws  instituted  by  the  Creator ;  cooperating  with  which, 
man  becomes  possessed  of  a  portion  of  divine  power,  and  unaided  by 
which,  every  attempt  of  human  force  or  skill  must  be  baffled.  The 
tendency  and  the  ability  to  penetrate  into  th£  depths  of  causation, 
constitute  the  mental  prerogatives  of  man  ;  they  lift  him  up  to  the 
rank  of  nobility,  in  the  orders  of  intelligence,  and  make  his  mind  the 
well-spring  of  a  stream  which  is  destined  to  flow  on  forever, — not  with 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  jog 

the  mere  casual  or  limited  contributions  of  observation,  but  ever 
enlarging  itself  by  the  broad  and  deep  affluents  of  profouudest  thought 
and  reflective  reason,  and  richly  laden  with  all  the  treasures  of  dis- 
covery, which  have  been  accumulated  by  laborious  and  successful 
investigation. 

TV.  THE  RESULT  OF  THE  ACTION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES  : 

TRUTH. 

The  successive  stages  of  intellectual  progress. — Furnished  with  the 
interior  principle  of  intelligence,  invested  with  the  organized  apparatus 
of  sensation,  and  provided  with  the  physical  material  for  the  exercise 
of  his  powers,  the  child,  under  the  guidance  of  Creative  wisdom,  sets 
out  on  the  career  of  intellectual  progress,  actuated  by  the  impulse  of 
curiosity,  whose  tendency  is  to  insure  the  habit  of  observation  and  that 
discipline  of  his  perceptive  faculties  by  which  he  is  ultimately  enabled 
to  win  the  prize  of  KNOWLEDGE.  He  thus  accomplishes  his  first  cur- 
riculum in  the  great  school  established  by  the  benignant  universal 
Providence  which  careth  for  humanity,  and  under  whose  discipline  the 
law  of  progressive  intellection  secures,  to  a  given  extent,  the  welfare  of 
man,  whether  more  or  less  favored  by  intelligent  human  culture.  To 
this  first  stage  of  development  gradually  succeeds  that  other,  in  which, 
through  the  inward  action  of  the  divinely-implanted  principle  of  intel- 
ligence, man's  own  inner,  mental  world  of  conscious  condition,  act, 
cause,  effects,  tendency,  and  power, — of  memory,  reason,  imagination, 
feeling,  and  will,  is  revealed  and  explored,  as  a  theatre  of  comparatively 
unlimited  expansion  and  ceaseless  action.  Within  himself,  he  finds, 
at  once,  the  power,  the  springs,  the  scope,  the  materials  of  this  new 
career  of  activity,  in  which  he  is  impelled  by  the  same  earnest  irrepres- 
sible desire  to  discover  and  to  know,  as  before,  but  now  working  in  a 
higher  sphere,  and  with  a  higher  aim.  Prompted  by  inquiry,  and 
impelled  to  investigation,  he  is  thus  led  onward  to  that  higher  goal  of 
intellectual  progress,  where,  by  the  disciplined  action  of  the  reflective 
faculties,  knowledge  is  consummated  in  TRUTH,  and  where  man  dis- 
covers, and  learns  to  reverence  and  obey,  the  highest  law  of  his  being. — 
subordination  to  the  sway  of  the  Reason  which  reigns  supreme  in 
the  universe  of  thought. 

Appropriate  application  of  the  term  Truth. — The  sense  in  which 
the  word  "truth"  is  properly  used  in  general  discussions  connected 
with  mental  processes,  is,  of  course,  wider  than  that  in  which  it  is 
employed  in  relations  strictly  or  exclusively  pertaining  to  the  science 
of  logic.  In  the  latter  case,  it  implies  no  more  than  the  exact  con- 
formity of  the  terms  of  a  proposition  to  the  fact  which  it  is  obviously 
meant  to  announce.  But,  in  well-sanctioned  forms  of  expression  on 


126  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

general  topics,  truth  is,  with  equal  justice,  predicated  of  the  corres- 
pondence of  language  to  thought,  of  art  to  nature,  of  action  to  inten- 
tion, of  antitype  to  type, — in  any  relation  whatever. 

In  the  working  of  the  mind,  the  term  applies,  with  not  less  pro- 
priety, to  the  correspondence  of  perception  to  object,  of  conception  to 
idea,  of  word  to  thing,  of  language  to  relation,  of  action  to  conscience, 
of  habit  to  character,  of  aim  to  end,  of  opinion  to  sentiment  or  state- 
ment to  fact,  of  expression  or  representation  to  reality  or  actuality. 
The  word  "  truth,"  in  brief,  covers,  properly,  the  whole  ground  of 
intellectual,  esthetic,  or  moral  conformity  of  thought,  expression,  or 
action,  to  an  exact  and  recognized  standard,  sanctioned  by  the  canons 
of  criticism  or  of  conscience.  It  stands  opposed,  therefore,  equally  to 
falsity  of  conception,  of  expression,  or  of  action.  As  a  quality,  it  char- 
acterizes alike  the  habits  of  the  correct  thinker,  of  the  exact  artist, 
whether  in  the  use  of  pencil,  pen,  or  tongue,  and  those  of  the  sincere 
and  honest  man.  It  secures  the  individual  from  the  unintentional 
defects  of  error,  and  guards  him  against  the  voluntary  deviations  of 
design. 

In  relation,  however,  to  the  subject  of  human  culture,  and,  in  par- 
ticular, to  the  discipline  of  the  mental  powers,  truth  is  regarded  as  a 
result  of  voluntary  and  studious  application, — as  a  product  of  the  exer- 
cise of  the  reflective  faculties,  in  the  quest  of  ultimate  principles  in 
science,  physicaF,  intellectual,  or  moral.  Examples  in  point  are  fur- 
nished in  the  process  of  tracing  the  great  laws  of  physics,  in  the 
demonstrations  of  geometry,  in  the  verification  of  history,  in  logical 
ratiocination,  in  the  discussion  of  moral  obligations,  in  the  scrutiny  of 
evidence.  In  such  investigations,  the  quest  of  truth,  conducted  by 
well-disciplined  reflective  faculties,  is  steadily,  skillfully,  and  success- 
fully pushed  onward  to  the  grand  crowning  result  of  certainty  and 
conviction.  Unaided  by  the  skill  which  culture  and  discipline  insure, 
the  mind  has  no  security  against  the  involuntary  illusions  of  error,  or 
the  intentional  misrepresentations  of  deceit ;  it  discovers  no  stability 
in  the  outward  universe,  has  no  confidence  in  its  own  conclusions,  no 
just  reliance  on  itself,  no  firm  conviction  of  duty,  no  enlightened 
faith  in  testimony  ;  but  blown  about  by  every  plausible  assumption 
of  theory,  and  every  shifting  phase  of  circumstance, — a  prey  to  every 
reigning  delusion,  unsettled  on  any  sure  foundation  of  moral  principle, — 
skeptical  as  to  every  vital  truth,  plunging  into  every  approaching 
fog-bank  of  error,  and  drifting,  without  chart  or  compass,  on  the  great 
ocean  of  uncertainty, — suffers,  at  length,  an  intellectual  and  moral 
wreck. 

Most  justly,  as  well  as  beautifully,  has  Bacon  said,  "  truth,  which 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  J27 

only  doth  judge  itself,  teacheth  that  the  inquiry  of  truth,  which  is  the 
love-making,  or  wooing,  of  it, — the  knowledge  of  truth,  which  is  the 
presence  of  it, — and  the  belief  of  truth,  which  is  the  enjoying  of  it, — 
is  the  sovereign  good  of  human  nature." 

Guided  by  his  own  unassisted  reflective  reason,  man  does  unques- 
tionably attain  to  great  results,  both  intellectual  and  moral.  But, 
enlightened  by  the  knowledge  which  science  and  education  shed  on 
every  relation  of  his  being,  what  a  vast  expansion,  what  a  wondrous 
elevation  is  he  capable  of  attaining ; — all  resulting  from  the  faithful 
application  and  skillful  exercise  of  the  reason  with  which  his  Creator 
has  crowned  his  intellectual  faculties  !  How  noble,  in  this  view, 
becomes  the  office  of  the  educator,  whose  daily  endeavor  it  is  to  cher- 
ish, and  strengthen,  and  vivify  this  master  principle  of  all  intelligence  ! 

V.  EDUCATIONAL  PROCESSES  FOR  THE  DEVELOPMENT  AND  DISCIPLINE 
OF  TEE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

Defective  Methods. — If  we  look  at  what  is  professedly  and  formally 
done,  in  our  common  modes  of  education,  for  the  exercise  and  disci- 
pline of  the  reflective  faculties ;  and  if  we  found  our  estimate  on  the 
number  of  branches  of  knowledge  or  of  science,  and  the  number  and 
variety  of  books  nominally  employed  for  the  purpose,  we  might  be 
inclined  to  suppose  that,  in  this  important  part  of  culture,  much  is 
effected.  But,  on  examining  the  actual  state  of  things,  errors  and 
oversights,  in  this  respect,  are  found  to  be  numerous,  and  methods 
comparatively  ineffectual. 

Exclusive  reliance  on  exactness  of  recollection. — Memory,  the 
appointed  servant  of  the  reflective  faculties,  whose  office  it  is  to  collect 
and  keep  and  furnish  the  materials  for  their  action,  is,  indeed,  amply 
laden  with  the  semblance  and  show  of  matter  ; — but  most  of  it  in  the 
form  of  Hamlet's  book  of  "  words,  words,  words.''  The  too  exclusive 
use  of  manuals,  the  mere  records  of  knowledge,  instead  of  the  actual 
study  of  objects,  facts  and  relations,  the  observation  and  the  under- 
standing of  which  constitute  knowledge  itself,  leads  to  the  cultivation 
of  a  verbal  and  mechanical  memory,  instead  of  a  living  and  intelligent 
one.  The  fact  is  still  too  generally  overlooked,  that  memory  is  not 
so  much  a  separate  faculty,  which  can  be  trained  and  disciplined  by 
itself,  as  the  mind, — in  virtue  of  its  spiritual  nature  and  exemption 
from  limits  of  time  and  space, — retaining  or  recalling  what  it  has  once 
observed  or  conceived  ;  that  the  vigor  of  this  retention,  or  the  force  of 
this  recurrence,  must  always  be  as  that  of  the  original  impression  , 
and  that  the  only  rational  reliance  for  the  healthy  and  effective  action 
of  memory,  must  therefore  be  the  freshness,  the  force,  and  the  depth 
of  attention.  But,  obviously,  no  impression  made  on  the  mind  through 


128  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES 

the  medium  of  language, — no  matter  how  exact  may  be  the  definition, 
or  how  true  the  description, — can  ever  be  so  complete  or  so  effectual 
as  that  of  direct  observation  through  the  senses,  personal  experience, 
or  distinct  conciousness.  Here,  again,  we  are  referred  to  two  great 
educational  principles  :  that  the  study  of  things  should  precede  the 
study  of  words,  and  should  always  be  resorted  to,  in  preference,  where- 
ever  there  is  a  choice  of  modes  of  instruction  ;  and  that,  to  awaken 
and  develope  the  reflective  faculties,  the  true  course  is,  in  obedience 
to  the  Creator's  appointment,  to  use  the  objects  of  nature  as  the  appa- 
ratus which  His  wisdom  has  provided,  not  only  for  the  exercise  and 
training  of  the  mind's  perceptive  faculties,  with  a  view  to  the  acquisi- 
tion of  knowledge,  but  for  the  expanding  and  deepening  of  its  capaci- 
ties of  discovering  truth.  Observation  naturally  prompts  to  thought 
and  reflection.  There  is,  in  such  circumstances,  a  conscious,  living 
transition  from  one  sphere  of  intelligence  to  another, — from  one  com- 
paratively lower  and  more  limited  to  one  higher  and  more  spacious. 
But  in  the  mere  contemplation  or  repetition  of  the  words  which  des- 
cribe an  object,  record  a  fact,  or  state  a  principle,  the  condition  of  mind 
is  that  of  abstraction  ;  and  the  mental  associations,  in  such  conditions, 
are  always  less  vivid,  forcible  and  distinct,  than  in  the  observation  of 
concrete  realities  ;  and,  when  the  former  of  these  conditions  is  recalled, 
its  impress  is  necessarily  dim  and  obscure,  compared  to  that  of  the 
latter,  which,  by  the  experience  of  actual  perception,  has  become  a 
comparatively  inseparable  part  of  the  mental  life  and  history  of  the 
agent. 

The  difference  in  these  two  cases  will  be  rendered  yet  more  strik- 
ingly apparent,  if  we  suppose, — what  is  commonly  true  in  verbatim 
processes  of  committing  to  memory, — that  the  mind  of  the  learner,  in 
his  anxiety  to  retain  and  repeat  with  exactness  the  phraseology  of  the 
book  which  he  studies,  often  glances  aside  from  the  contemplation  of 
the  fact  or  the  principle  which  he  is  enunciating,  to  the  literal  succes- 
sion of  the  words  in  which  it  is  expressed.  The  mind's  power  of 
abstraction  becomes,  in  this  way,  the  very  means  of  its  deterioration  ; 
and  the  memory,  abused  by  this  arbitrary  and  mechanical  mode  of 
exercise,  loses  its  healthy  power  of  retention  and  recollection ;  and 
unfortunately,  most  of  all,  in  those  reflective  processes  of  earnest 
thought  which  demand  its  most  vigorous  exertion. 

The  prevalent  methods  of  teaching,  moreover,  are  still  too  exclusively 
directed  to  the  exercise  of  memory,  at  the  expense  of  neglecting  the 
other  faculties, — an  evil  inseparable  from  the  false  views  which  still 
usurp  the  seats  of  instruction,  and  make  education  consist  in  processes 
of  passive  reception,  on  the  part  of  the  pupil ;  as  if  his  mind  were  a 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE   REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  129 

capacity  to  be  filled,  rather  than  a  capability  to   be  developed,  or  a 
life-power  to  be  awakened. 

Reading. — The  greater  number  of  the  subjects  which  are  introduced 
in  early  education,  as  means  of  exercise  and  discipline  for  the  mind, 
are  still  too  commonly  treated  under  the  influence  of  these  erroneous 
views  of  the  character  and  objects  of  mental  culture.  Hence  the 
wearisome  experience  of  the  child,  when  compelled  to  drudge  through 
the  task  of  committing  to  memory  the  names  of  all  the  alphabetic 
characters  of  the  language,  before,  or  perhaps  without  ever,  acquiring 
a  knowledge  of  the  power,  or  actual  sound,  of  any  one  of  the  whole 
group.  Every  day,  he  is  giving  two  or  three  of  these  sounds  in  every 
one  of  the  short  and  easy  words  which  he  uses  in  conversation.  But 
he  is  not  allowed  the  satisfaction  of  recognizing  the  fac.t,  that  these 
troublesome  and  perplexing  marks  before  his  eye,  are  little  graphic 
characters  to  suggest,  phonetically  to  eye  and  ear,  the  very  words 
which  he  is  constantly  uttering.  When  the  alphabetic  task  is  accom- 
plished, there  follows,  usually,  in  the  child's  experience,  that  of  hew- 
ing his  way  through  whole  columns  of  words,  to  him  unmeaning, 
because  lying  out  of  his  sphere  in  the  understanding  and  use  of  lan- 
guage ;  and  to  this  useless  toil  too  often  succeeds  that  of  reading  multi- 
tudes of  unintelligible-  sentences  of  a  character  corresponding  to  the 
words  which  baffled  him.  But  we  need  not  dwell  on  this  topic  now, 
having  entered  into  it  at  length,  in  former  connections  of  this  part  of 
our  subject. 

Arithmetic. — In  arithmetical  instruction,  which  might  be  so  effect- 
ive an  aid  to  the  development  of  the  mind's  reflective  power,  the 
same  evil  still  too  generally  prevails,  as  in  the  rudimental  stages  of 
spelling  and  reading.  The  very  first  step  taken,  in  some  instances,  is 
to  prescribe  and  enforce  the  committing  to  memory  of  elementary 
tables  of  numbers,  by  arbitrary  repetition  of  the  words  in  which  these 
are  expressed.  Were  the  child  allowed  the  fair  opportunity  of  first 
seeing,  in  concrete  form,  the  facts  which  he  is  made  to  assume  and 
communicate  in  parrot-like  form  ;  and  were  he  allowed  to  create  them 
for  himself,  in  visible  or  tangible  shape,  in  copious  instances,  and  thus 
to  generalize  the  facts  from  his  own  observation,  memory  would  have 
an  intelligent,  living  office  to  perform,  would  work  with  freshness  and 
strength,  arid  long  retain,  or  easily  recall,  what  attention  had  proved. 
Were  it  required  of  the  pupil  thus  to  construct  the  given  table,  instead 
of  merely  repeating  the  words  in  which  it  is  expressed,  the  exercise  of 
memory  would  be  as  pleasing  as  it  would  be  invigorating.  It  would 
thus  be  aided  by  the  deepening  and  strengthening  effect  of  the  not 
less  delightful  processes  of  combining  and  constructing,  in  the  actua. 

II 


130  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

work  of  practical  operations.  The  busy  hand  would  thus  help  the 
thinking  head  to  clearer  views  and  deeper  impressions ;  and  the  true 
and  proper  work  of  memory  would  be  done  in  accordance  with  the 
law  of  mental  action. — "As  is  THE  EARNESTNESS  OF  ATTENTION,  so  is 

THE  DURATION  OF  REMEMBRANCE,  OR  THE  DISTINCTNESS  AND  READINESS 
OF  RECOLLECTION." 

Geography. — The  subject  of  geography  furnishes  very  frequently 
another  example  of  memoriter  lessons,  exacted,  perhaps,  with  a  well- 
ineamng  rigorous  fidelity  to  the  language  of  a  text-book,  but  sacri- 
ficing the  useful  knowledge,  the  pleasing  information,  and  the  invalu- 
able mental  training  and  discipline,  which  this  instructive  branch  of 
science  might  be  made  to  furnish.  Detached  facts,  comparative 
numerical  tables,  and  assumed  definitions,  are  yet  too  uniformly 
imposed  as  a  burden  on  the  memory  ;  while  the  actual  survey  of  even 
a  limited  portion  of  the  earth's  surface,  within  daily  view,  perhaps,  of 
the  learner,  would  furnish  him  with  the  best  materials  on  which  to 
build  up  the  noble  and  majestic  structure  of  geographical  science. 

Fortunately,  through  the  labors  of  Professor  Arnold  Guyot,  in  his 
luminous  exposition  of  the  philosophy  of  instruction  in  this  department 
of  science,  a  new  and  better  era  is  begun  in  American  schools ;  and 
this  branch  of  education  is  now,  in  many  seminaries,  taught  on 
methods  strictly  logical.  The  study  of  geography  thus  becomes  an 
admirable  intellectual  discipline,  in  addition  to  the  systematic  forms 
in  which  it  embodies  the  great  facts  and  pervading  laws  of  nature, 
which  are  its  peculiar  province  as  a  science.  The  student,  who  is 
trained  on  this  admirable  method,  has  the  great  features  of  the  globe, 
and  all  their  relations  of  consequent  fact,  imprinted  forever  on  his 
memory.  The  very  inequalities  of  the  earth's  surface,  become  to  him 
an  intelligible  language,  by  which  he  reads  the  laws  of  design,  and 
traces  effects  to  causes,  with  the  certainty  of  distinct  recognition. 
Taught  in  this  manner,  few  sciences  are  more  adapted  to  the  develop- 
ment of  the  reflective  faculties,  in  their  first  steps  of  advancement  from 
the  field  of  perceptive  observation  to  that  of  contemplative  survey  and 
rational  inquiry,  or  to  that  of  profound  scientific  investigation.  The 
methods  which  Professor  Guyot  has  transferred  from  the  lessons  of 
his  own  distinguished  instructor,  Carl  Ritter,  and  the  views  of  the 
patriarch  of  geographical  science,  Baron  Alexander  Von  Humboldt, 
will,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  soon  find  their  way  not  only  into  our  text-books, 
in  which  they  are  beginning  to  appear,  but  into  all  our  seminaries  in 
which  the  young  mind  is  undergoing  the  formative  processes  of 
education. 

History.-— Of  all  the  sciences  which  are  naturally  fitted  to  invite  the 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  131 

mind  to  the  full  exercise  of  its  reflective  tendencies,  none  would  seem 
so  happily  adapted  to  this  end  as  history.  Its  records,  while  they  are, 
in  one  sense,  but  forms  of  memory,  are  still  the  records  of  man  mov- 
ing on  his  amplest  stage  of  action,  as  a  human  being,  intelligent, 
rational,  and  moral;  blending  the  relations  of  individual  character  and 
social  life  with  those  of  the  national  and  political  sphere, — with  the 
founding  the  government,  or  the  fall  of  states  and  empires. 

History,  as  it  necessarily  exhibits  man  in  his  moral  relations,  ought 
to  be  one  of  the  most  instructive  and  suggestive  of  studies.  If  any 
subject  can  excite  reflective  thought,  it  is  this.  Its  analysis  and  scru- 
tiny of  human  character;  its  investigation  into  the  motives  of  action, 
in  every  form  and  condition  of  life;  the  research,  to  which  it  invites, 
into  the  manners  and  customs  of  by -gone  ages ;  the  careful  examina- 
tion which  it  induces  of  the  testimony  of  conflicting  records  ;  the  views 
which  it  discloses  of  national  character  and  institutions ;  the  insight 
which  it  gives  into  the  policy  of  nations,  and  the  influence  of  different 
forms  of  government ;  all  bespeak  the  tendency  of  historical  studies 
to  evoke  the  most  earnest  and  profound  reflection.  The  study  of  his- 
tory should  be,  in  itself,  an  effective  discipline  of  the  mind,  in  all  the 
noblest  relations  of  its  action.  But,  here,  too,  the  mere  imprinting  on 
the  memory  a  naked  record  of  detached  facts,  of  single  events,  or 
striking  incidents,  or  of  the  items  of  a  chronological  table,  is  the  too 
prevalent  law  of  custom  in  the  requisitions  of  educational  establish- 
ments. The  life  of  history,  its  suggestive  power,  as  a  reflective  and 
moral  instructor,  is  thus  killed  ;  and,  instead  of  the  living  form,  in  its 
natural  lineaments  and  beauty,  we  have  but  a  meagre  outline  of  the 
dry  bones  of  what,  in  the  technical  language  of  historic  compilation,  is 
most  aptly  denominated  a  "  skeleton." 

To  the  mature  mind,  willing  to  encounter  fatiguing  effort,  and 
patiently  to  add  stone  to  stone  of  the  intellectual  fabric,  the  plan  too 
commonly  adopted  in  the  instruction  of  young  learners,  of  beginning 
the  study  of  history  with  a  mere  outline  of  dates  and  events  and  eras, 
may  prove  practicable,  though  not  easy  or  pleasant.  But,  to  the 
youthful  spirit,  the  great  attraction  of  this  study  lies  in  its  pictures  of 
life  and  action,  and  in  the  sympathies  which  these  evoke.  To  the 
juvenile  reader  all  history  is  biography.  The  policy  of  nations,  the 
intrigues  of  state,  the  strategics  of  war,  are  unintelligible  and  uninter- 
esting to  him ;  and  he  ignores  them,  if  they  intrude  upon  the  narra- 
tive. But  the  feeling  and  the  character  and  actions  of  individuals,  he 
understands,  and  admires  or  hates,  according  to  the  promptings  of  his 
unperverted  heart.  He  follows  the  steps  of  the  historic  hero,  through 
all  his  scenes  of  struggle  and  trial,  of  effort  and  of  triumph  ;  imbibing  v, 


1-32  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

unconsciously,  in  the  successive  stages  of  this  ideal  progress,  inspiring 
lessons  of  wisdom  and  virtue  from  all,  or  listening  to  the  warnings 
which  recorded  experience  gives  on  the  evils  of  folly  or  of  vice. 

A  course  of  judiciously  selected  biography,  should  be  the  educa- 
tional introduction  to  the  study  of  history.  The  interest  attached  to 
the  personal  narrative,  accompanies  the  young  student  into  his  read- 
ing on  the  broader  scale  of  national  movements  and  their  various  con- 
sequences ;  and  the  life  breathed  into  the  study  from  the  character  of 
its  earliest  stage,  gives  warmth  and  attraction  to  all  its  more  extensive 
views  and  complicated  relations. 

Language,  as  the  product  of  the  expressive  faculties,  and  as  a  dis- 
cipline for  their  development,  we  had  occasion  to  discuss  under  that 
head,  in  a  former  lecture.  But  we  have  still  to  do  with  it  as  a  part 
of  education  adapted  to  the  strengthening  of  the  mind's  power  of 
reflective  investigation.  Our  common  error  in  this  department,  as  in 
others,  is  a  too  exclusive  attention  to  the  acquisition  of  a  certain 
amount  of  knowledge  of  the  etymological  and  syntactical  forms  of 
words  and  phrases, — a  knowledge  depending  entirely  on  the  exercise 
of  memory  in  retaining  or  recalling  these  forms.  Through  the  various 
stages  of  education,  the  attention  is  too  exclusively  fixed  on  these 
im'nutiaB  of  language  ;  and,  neither  in  the  study  of  ancient  or  of  modern 
languages,  nor  even  in  that  of  our  own,  is  the  mind  duly  attracted  to 
the  character  of  the  sentiments  embodied  in  the  works  of  the  authors 
which  are  read  in  the  progress  of  education,  nor  to  the  broad  distinct- 
ive traits  which  form  the  character  of  the  given  language, — to  the 
individuality  which  a  successful  writer  stamps  on  it,  or  to  the  mental 
value  of  the  forms  of  expression  which  he  adopts.  Philology,  a  pur- 
suit so  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  cultivation  of  the  mind's  reflective 
and  investigating  powers,  is  cut  off  from  the  student  till  the  strong 
bias  of  personal  taste  or  inclination  induces  him  to  open  this  mental 
vista  for  himself.  Criticism,  too,  the  art  which  demands  the  closest 
application  of  reflective  judgment,  in  addition  to  perfect  purity  of  taste, 
is.  handed  over  to  the  lessons  of  some  meagre  text-book,  which  does 
not  contain  matter  enough  within  its  boards  for  the  proper  discussion 
or  fitting  elucidation  of  a  single  principle  of  aBsthetics. 

Logic  is  another  science  belonging  to  the  more  advanced  stages  of 
education, — the  study  of  which  ought  to  exert  a  powerful  influence  on 
the  tendencies  and  habits  of  the  reflective  faculties,  but  which  is  some- 
times very  inadequately  taught  even  in  our  higher  seminaries  of  learn- 
ing. In  some  of  these  institutions,  it  is  customary  to  restrict  the  study 
of  logic  to  the  ancient  Aristotelian  form  of  it,  and  without  the  advant- 
age of  the  scholastic,  syllogistic  disputations,  which,  although  alwavs 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  13^ 

formal  in  character,  and  sometimes  frivolous  in  result,  were  yet  designed 
to  be  rigorouslv  exact  exemplifications  of  pure  logical  reasoning  ;  and 
which,  with  all  their  faults  and  failures,  secured,  at  least,  one  great 
practical  object  of  education,  by  giving  the  mind  active  exercise  in 
applying  principles,  instead  of  leaving  it  merely  to  listen,  and  remem- 
ber, and  record.  It  is  true  that,  in  some  educational  establishments,  a 
more  liberal  view  of  logic  is  entertained,  and  that,  in  these  seminaries, 
the  science  is  regarded  not  merely  as  one  which  t^ac(hes  the  art  of 
reasoning,  but  as  that  which  investigates  and  enunciates  the  laws  of 
thought,  and  involves,  therefore,  a  knowledge  of  the  elements  of  intel- 
lectual philosophy,  together  with  the  application  of  all  the  principles 
of  mental  science  which  affect  the  exercise  of  any  class  of  the  various 
powers  and  faculties  of  the  mind. 

An  instructive  exposition  of  this  view  of  logic,  as  the  first  stage  of 
purely  intellectual  discipline,  is  given  in  the  "  Outlines  of  Philosophic 
Education,"  by  the  late  Professor  Jardine,  of  Glasgow  University,  who, 
for  fifty  years,  conducted,  with  distinguished  success,  his  course  of 
instruction,  on  the  plan  delineated  in  his  work.  That  eminently  skill- 
ful teacher, — for  he  regarded  the  duties  of  a  professor  in  his  depart- 
ment as  consisting  quite  as  much  in  conducting  the  practical  processes 
of  training  exercises,  as  in  the  didactic  routine  of  lecturing, — regarded 
the  study  of  the  Aristotelian  logic  but  as  a  very  limited  part  of  intel- 
lectual discipline,  and,  while  he  allowed  it  its  distinct  place  and  full 
value,  justly  maintained  that,  for  the  purposes  of  modern  education, 
which  imply  so  wide  and  varied  applications  of  thought, — in  directions 
so  different  from  those  pursued  in  ancient  times, — the  sphere  of  study 
must  be  greatly  enlarged  beyond  the  narrow  limits  of  the  scholastic 
discipline,  and  a  course  of  training  prescribed  which  shall  prepare  the 
mind  for  the  new  demands  made  upon  its  powers,  in  the  new  modes 
of  action  with  which  modern  science  is  conversant. 

This  broader  view  of  logical  discipline  is  fortunately  taken  by  several 
of  our  own  recent  writers  on  the  subject;  and  the  course  of  instruction 
is,  accordingly,  in  some  seminaries,  enlarged  so  as  to  embrace  the 
elements  of  intellectual  philosophy,  as  indispensable  to  clear  and  satis- 
factory views  of  logic  itself,  and  to  the  purposes  for  which  the  study 
of  logic  was  originally  constituted  a  department  of  education.  But 
even  in  such  instances,  the  young  student  is  not  trained  to  apply  the 
principles  embodied  in  his  text- book  to  an  extensive  course  of  practi- 
cal exemplifications  and  personal  discipline.  He  is  not  called  to  per- 
form anv  series  of  practical  exercises  bearing  the  same  relation  to  the 
science  of  logic  that  analytic  parsing  and  written  composition  bear  to 
grammar.  He  is  not  trained  to  trace  the  logic  of  great  arguments 


134  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

exemplified  in  the  productions  of  eminent  metaphysical  writers.  He 
is  not  disciplined  in  the  digesting  and  methodizing  of  his  own  concep- 
tions on  prescribed  subjects,  so  as  to  give  sequence  or  soundness  to 
argument,  and  certainty  to  his  own  conclusions. 

In  the  study  of  intellectual  philosophy  we  see,  too  often,  another 
instance  of  the  imperfect  learning  by  book,  without  the  contemplation 
of  the  thing  itself  of  which  the  book  treats.  Our  current  instruction, 
in  this  department,  consists  in  little  more  than  the  assigning  of  so 
many  pages  of  a  text-book  to  be  committed  to  memory  ;  and  the  pro- 
gress made  in  the  study  of  the  science  is  judged  of  by  the  correctness 
or  the  fluency  with  which  the  terms  employed  in  the  nomenclature 
of  a  favorite  system  can  be  repeated,  rather  than  by  any  actual  know- 
ledge or  personal  opinions  on  the  subject  itself.  The  student  is  not 
invited  to  put  forth  his  own  mind,  in  actual  investigations  on  the 
topics  which  he  studies  :  he  is  not  permitted  to  enjoy  the  benefit  of 
those  conversational  discussions  with  his  instructor,  which  might  create 
a  living  interest  in  the  subject  prescribed,  and  induce  the  student  to 
prosecute  with  effect  those  unaided  researches  of  individual  applica- 
tion, without  which  knowledge  is  not  to  be  acquired,  or  truth 
ascertained. 

In  the  department  of  moral  philosophy,  a  subject  so  peculiarly 
adapted  to  the  development  and  discipline  of  the  reflective  faculties, 
we  find,  usually,  the  same  mechanical  routine  of  book-study  and 
recitation  adopted.  In  this  highest  relation  of  human  instruction,  the 
mind  is  still  left  passive  and  receptive  merely  ;  while  there  is  no  sub- 
ject on  which  original,  vigorous,  and  personal  thought  is  so  important 
to  the  acquisition  of  principle  or  the  formation  of  character.  Here, 
more  than  anywhere  else,  living,  eloquent  instruction  from  the  man, 
rather  than  the  book,  is  indispensable  to  the  production  of  deep  and 
enduring  impressions  of  truth,  and  the  exciting  of  hearty  sympathy 
•with  its  applications.  Here,  too,  more  than  elsewhere,  is  the  active 
use  of  the  student's  own  mind  necessary  to  the  results  of  true  culture 
on  personal  habit  and  character.  His  own  investigations,  and  his  own 
record  of  these,  ought  to  be  required  of  him,  as  the  only  rational 
benefit  of  the  guidance  afforded  by  a  text-book  or  a  teacher.  Conver- 
sation and  writing  would  throw  life  into  these  subjects,  and  make  them 
matters  of  personal  interest  and  personal  conviction  to  the  individual ; 
and  the  fruits  of  education  would  thus  be  more  extensively  reaped  in 
the  experience  of  society. 

APPROPRIATE  METHODS  OF  DISCIPLINE. — We  will  now  turn  from 
the  consideration  of  the  subjects  which  form  the  usual  material  for  the 
education  and  development  of  the  reflective  faculties,  to  the  more 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  135 

immediate  contemplation  of  those  faculties  themselves,  with  regard  to 
their  natural  wants  and  appropriate  aids  ;  and,  first,  as  regards  the 
faculty  of 

Memory. — In  the  fact  of  muscular  action,  the  power  to  retain 
depends  on  the  firmness  of  the  original  grasp.  The  analogy  holds  in 
the  exercise  of  memory  :  the  retentive  or  repeating  power  depends  on 
the  depth  of  the  impression :  concentrated  and  sustained  attention  is 
the  condition  of  remembrance.  If  we  would  strengthen  the  memory, 
we  must  cultivate  force  of  attention.  The  indication  of  nature  to  the 
teacher,  in  this  case,  obviously  is,  Select  for  the  mind's  first  exercises, 
striking  or  attractive  objects  of  attention,  or  interesting  subjects  of 
thought.  For  more  advanced  stages  of  mental  progress,  when  accu- 
racy demands  comparative  minuteness  and  multiplicity  of  uninterest- 
ing detail,  rely  on  the  moral  force  of  the  will  and  disciplined  habit,  to 
give  closeness  and  persistency  to  attention.  In  all  cases,  keep  fully  in 
mind  the  great  value  of  mer)  repetition  and  frequent  review,  without 
which  all  ordinary  subjects  of  past  thought  are  ever  tending  to  sink 
into  dimness  and  obscurity,  and,  ultimately,  into  utter  forgetful  ness. 

Mechanical  aids  to  memory  may  sometimes  appear  very  plausible ; 
and  they  often  are  very  amusing  temporary  expedients.  But  they 
actually  destroy  memory,  by  setting  it  aside,  and  usurping  its  place. 
The  physiologist  tells  us  that  if  we  omit  the  due  use  of  the  teeth,  we 
forfeit  the  possession  of  them.  The  fact  is  strictly  so  of  memory. 
The  juggling  tricks  of  perverted  ingenuity  may  seem  to  conjure  up  a 
substitute  for  the  sound  and  healthy  exercise  of  this  faculty.  But  the 
subject  of  the  experiment,  in  this  as  in  all  other  forms  of  charlatanry, 
finds  himself,  in  the  end,  the  victim  of  deception. 

Memory,  when  employed  on  subjects  comparatively  complex,  or 
intricate  in  tlieir  relations,  finds  its  surest  reliance, — next  to  close  and 
fixed  attention, — to  consist  in  the  grand  universal  law  of  order. 
Arrangement,  classification,  system,  method,  are  powerful  auxiliaries 
to  memory,  as  they  all  tend,  more  or  less,  to  give  sequence  to  thought, 
by  the  law  of  causation,  in  the  closest  connection  of  antecedent  and 
consequent.  One  stage  of  thought  thus  suggests  another ;  and  the 
machinery  of  memory,  so  to  speak,  works  smoothly  and  well.  The 
security  for  remembrance  or  for  recollection,  in  such  circumstances, 
lies,  of  course,  in  the  clearness  with  which  connections  and  relations 
are  perceived,  and  the  fidelity  with  which  they  are  observed.  A 
treacherous  memory  is  often  but  the  report  of  unfaithful  observation 
or  dim  conception. 

Habits  of  Conception  dependent  on  those  of  Perception. —  Conception, 
jis  a  primary  power  of  reflective  intelligence,  performing  for  the 


136  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

relations  of  pure  intellection,  the  same  office  with  that  of  perception,  in 
the  exercise  of  the  understanding  on  the  objects  of  sensation,  depends, 
to  a  great  extent,  on  the  character  and  habits  of  the  perceptive  faculty. 
The  relations  which  the  conceptive  power  discerns  between  the  objects 
and  facts,  presented  to  it  by  the  ministrations  of  sense,  constitute  the 
condition  of  intelligent  observation,  as,  differing  from  mere  ocular  aspec- 
tion.  But  these  relations  necessarily  derive  much  of  their  reality  and 
force  from  the  vividness  of  the  sensation  and  the  clearness  of  the 
understanding,  which  have  attracted  attention  to  the  external  phenome- 
na, and  thus  have  elicited  the  conceptive  acts  of  mind  by  which  the 
relations  perceived  and  understood  become  the  ground- work  of  reflec- 
tion and  meditation,  leading  in  turn  to  farther  processes  of  thought, 
inductive  or  deductive,  as  investigation  may  require. 

Clear,  forcible  and  true  perceptions,  therefore,  are  requisite  antece- 
dents of  corresponding  qualities  in  conception  /  and  a  sound  and  active 
condition  of  the  latter  depends  on  similar  conditions  and  habits  of 
the  former ; — just  as  healthy  sensation  is,  in  turn,  the  pre-requisite  of 
distinct  perception.  We  are  thus  again  referred,  in  adopting  educa- 
tional measures  for  strengthening  and  developing  the  mind's  conceptive 
power,  to  the  attentive  observation  of  external  nature,  as  the  proper 
commencement  of  early  mental  training;  as  the  only  security,  also, 
for  the  vigor  of  all  those  faculties  which  aid  the  mind  in  digesting  and 
assimilating  to  itself,  by  purely  internal  operations,  the  materials  of 
knowledge  acquired  through  the  action  of  sense,  for  the  purpose  of 
being  incorporated  into  the  mental  fabric.  We  are,  at  the  same  time, 
reminded  of  the  great  fact,  of  which  education  should  never  lose  sight, 
that,  whatever  be  the  number  of  faculties  into  which  the  intellectual 
philosopher  may,  in  his  scientific  analysis,  subdivide  the  action  of  the 
mind,  or  whatever  may  be  the  personified  individuality  which  the 
figurative  language  of  popular  usage  may  arbitrarily  confer  on  any  one 
mode  of  mental  action, — to  distinguish  it  from  others. — the  principle 
of  intelligence  is  strictly  a  unit ;  that  it  is  the  same  agent,  whether 
contemplating  the  external  world  through  the  windows  of  sense,  or 
looking  inward  upon  itself,  and  interpreting  its  own  action.  In  both 
circumstances,  we  recognize  a  voluntary  act  of  attention,  followed  by 
an  apprehensive  or  a  comprehensive  act  of  understanding.  In  either 
case,  intelligence  is  the  power  at  work ;  knowledge  is  the  immediate, 
and  truth  the  flnal  result. 

Conception  as  dependent  on  Memory  and  Imagination. — Under  the 
term  "  conception,"  however,  in  the  vague  usage  to  which  the  English 
language  is  unfortunately  prone,  in  all  subjects  purely  intellectual,  we 
usually  include  states  or  acts  of  memory  and  of  imagination.  Nor  is 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE   REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  137 

it  to  be  denied  that  the  conceptive  faculty  is  often  called  into  action 
on  data  furnished  by  memory,  as  well  as  on  those  presented  by  sense 
or  by  reason.  To  vivify  and  invigorate  the  power  of  conception, 
therefore,  in  such  relations,  we  are  admonished  to  pursue  the  same 
course  of  exercise  and  discipline  by  which  that  faculty  is  rendered 
prompt  and  retentive.  Whatever  we  succeed  in  doing  to  improve  the 
memory,  becomes  thus  a  gain  to  the  power  of  conception. 

Again,  the  prevalent  use  of  language  refers  many  of  our  conceptive 
acts  to  forms  of  imagination.  The  astronomer,  speaking  of  the  sun, 
tells  us  of  its  dark,  central  body, — of  its  first  layer  or  substratum  of 
cloudy  atmosphere, — of  its  photosphere,  or  luminous  atmosphere,  and 
of  yet  a  third  rarer  element,  ethereal  and  slightly  colored, — as  to  the 
character  of  which,  science  is  somewhat  perplexed  with  uncertainty. 
The  conceptive  power  of  the  mind  enables  us,  in  this  case,  to  follow 
the  entrancing  description  as  the  scientific  observer,  aided  by  the  many 
appliances  which  modern  instruments  provide,  proceeds  with  his  veri- 
fied observations ;  and,  with  wondering  attention,  we  draw  on  the  tab- 
let of  imagination  the  successive  images  which  his  graphic  but  exact 
expressions  suggest :  we  see,  with  the  mind's  eye,  the  sun-world,  and 
its  enfolding  atmospheres,  as  distinctly  in  our  consciousness  as  if  we 
surveyed  them  with  eye  or  "optic  tube." 

Correctness  of  Conception. — Even  in  such  cases,  however,  the  truth- 
fulness and  the  distinctness  of  the  mental  picture  depend,  to  a  great 
extent,  on  the  exactness  of  its  correspondence  to  fact,  as  regards  not 
only  the  forms  but  the  character  of  objects,  and  the  relations  existing 
between  them.  Here,  again,  we  are  referred  to  the  working  of  the 
intelligent  principle  in  the  modes  which  we  denominate  understanding 
and  judgment,  without  which  the  whole  structure  erected  in  the  mind 
would  be  as  the  poet's  "  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision." 

In  educational  training,  therefore,  while  every  endeavor  should  be 
used  to  vivify  and  incite  imagination,  and  to  awaken  it  to  its  utmost 
activity  by  appropriate  exercise,  with  a  view  to  the  vast  power  which 
that  faculty  confers  on  conception,  as  a  creative  energy  of  mind  ;  and 
while  all  the  aids  which  nature,  art,  and  poetry,  offer  to  this  end, 
should  be  fully  employed  ;  there  remains  yet  a  task  for  education  to 
perform,  in  inuring  the  conceptive  faculty  to  the  discipline  of  reason 
and  judgment,  so  as  to  render  it  exact,  and  truthful,  and  symmetrical, 
in  all  its  work. 

The  means  by  which  the  mind  is  to  be  formed  to  such  habits  in  its 
conceptive  action,  are  evidently  the  same  which  we  would  employ  for 
developing  and  strengthening  the  reasoning  powers  :  first,  the  inter- 
esting presentation  of  the  objects  and  facts  of  the  natural  world, — so 


138  CULTIVATION  OF  THE   REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

as  to  elicit  thought  and  reflection  on  their  character  and  relations  ; 
secondly,  the  teacher's  skillful  suggestion,  designed  to  aid  the  observer 
in  tracing  those  relations  to  principles  and  laws  of  logical  science  ;  and, 
thirdly,  the  careful  training  of  the  mind  to  the  contemplation  of  its  own 
action,  to  the  critical  inspection  and  exact  discrimination  of  the  results 
of  its  action,  and  to  the  thorough  investigation  of  the  laws  of  thought, 
applied  to  the  quest  of  truth. 

CONSCIOUSNESS  : — as  an  aid  to  Reflective  Reason. — Of  the  reflective 
conditions  of  mind  which  tend  to  give  accuracy  to  knowledge,  or  cer- 
tainty to  truth,  none  is  more  conducive  to  such  results  than  that  of 
consciousness.  Not  that  it  necessarily  constitutes  a  separate  power  or 
faculty  ;  (since  it  is  plainly  but  an  act  of  introverted  attention,  by 
which  the  mind  becomes  aware  of  its  existing  states,  acts,  or  pro- 
cesses ;)  but  rather  that  it  is  a  mental  condition  distinctly  recognized 
in  all  the  languages  of  civilized  man,  and  implies  the  power  which  the 
intelligent  principle  possesses  of  holding  up,  in  distinct  vision  to  itself, 
its  own  acts  and  operations; — whether  these  refer  to  the  external 
world  of  perception  or  the  interior  world  of  thought.  This  power  of 
self-observation,  when  the  attention  is  directed  to  relations  purely 
intellectual,  is  necessarily  the  condition  and  the  measure  offeree  with 
which  the  mind  pursues  its  trains  of  reflection,  traces  the  invisible 
relations  of  sequence,  or  follows  the  continuous  processes  of  meditation, 
in  the  prosecution  of  those  profound  researches  which  the  depth  and 
intricacy  of  scientific  or  moral  truth  not  unfrequently  require. 

Its  Susceptibility  of  Culture. — In  the  relations  of  moral  culture, 
this  faculty, — so  to  term  it, — works  in  so  close  and  intimate  union 
with  the  great  master  principle  of  conscience,  that  its  importance  as  a 
fact  of  mind  demanding  the  earnest  attention  of  the  educator,  in  his 
capacity  of  moral  guardian,  is,  at  once,  apparent.  On  that  department 
of  our  subject  we  do  not,  at  present,  dwell,  as  it  will  invite  our  atten- 
tion hereafter,  in  its  proper  place.  But,  as  an  intellectual  condition, 
subject,  to  some  extent,  to  the  action  of  the  will,  and  to  the  influence 
of  disciplinary  exercise,  it  is  obvious  that  conciousness  or  self-observa- 
tion, may,  like  any  other  power  which  the  mind  possesses,  be  rendered 
vivid,  prompt,  and  operative,  by  repeated  action. 

Man  commences  his  intellectual  and  moral  life  an  unconscious  agent, 
in  the  unknown  and  wonderful  world  around  him,  in  childhood.  He 
is  as  utterly  unconscious  of  the  influences  exerted  on  himself  as  he  is 
ignorant  of  the  true  character  and  relations  of  the  objects  by  which 
he  is  surrounded.  Absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  the  broad  field 
of  the  external  world,  or  in  the  observation  of  its  objects  individually, 
he  is  lost  alike  to  the  consciousness  of  his  own  being,  and  to  that  of 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  139 

the  effects  which  are  wrought  within  him  by  these  very  objects. 
Drawn  onward  by  an  unconscious  power  of  attraction,  he  follows  the 
study  of  nature,  in  obedience  to  an  instinct  of  which  he  is  not  yet 
aware,  but  which,  by  leading  him  out  of  himself,  conducts  hirn  to  the 
school  of  observation,  where  knowledge  commences,  and  from  which  he, 
in  due  season,  returns,  empowered  by  the  instruction  he  has  received 
to  observe  and  understand  himself. 

As  his  nobler  powers  mature,  they  begin  to  work  on  the  data  which 
observation  has  furnished  ;  and,  as  he  examines,  he  thinks,  he  com- 
pares, he  reflects,  he  reasons  ;  he  becomes  aware  of  a  more  powerful 
influence  and  a  deeper  satisfaction  than  that  of  mere  observation,  while 
he  consciously  follows  his  successive  conceptions,  and  meditates  not 
only  on  the  relations  of  object  to  object,  and  of  effect  to  cause,  in  the 
outward  universe,  but  on  the  yet  more  wonderful  and  mysterious  action 
of  his  own  inward  being,  to  the  conciousness  of  which  he  is  now  fully 
awakened.  This  newly-discovered  world  attracts  his  attention  with  a 
yet  greater  force  and  intensity  of  interest  than  that  of  the  external 
sphere,  in  which  he  has  hitherto  moved  ;  and  the  growing  strength  of 
his  intellect,  he  finds,  is  more  fuljy  exerted  and  more  decidedly  proved 
in  this  inner  region  of  its  action,  than  in  the  outer  field  of  sense  and 
perception.  He  delights,  accordingly,  in  this  conscious  exercise  of  a 
higher  power,  and  recognizes  the  nobility  of  reason. 

Such  is  man's  progress,  even  when  little  assisted  by  the  formal  aids 
of  education.  But  we  see  thus  more  clearly  how  judicious  and  skillful 
training  may  render  conciousness  comparatively  vivid,  definite,  and 
distinct^  by  aiding,  with  appropriate  appliances  of  exercise  and  disci- 
pline, this  capability  of  reflective  contemplation,  of  self-intelligence,  and 
of  self-development,  which  grows  with  the  growth,  and  strengthens 
with  the  strength  of  the  maturing  mind.  If  this  power  is  permitted 
to  lie  neglected  and  undeveloped,  the  result  is  uniformly  a  character- 
istic dullness,  obscurity,  and  vagueness  in  the  mind's  habitual  action. 
This  fact  we  recognize,  in  full  exemplification,  when  we  contrast  the 
uncultivated,  half-conscious  child,  youth,  or  man,  with  the  well-edu- 
cated and  the  self-intelligent. 

Mode  of  Culture. — Subjected  to  processes  of  cultivation,  however, 
this  faculty,  like  memory,  can  not  be  brought  under  the  law  of  direct 
action.  Memory  is  to  be  reached  through  attention ;  to  enliven  and 
strengthen  the  former,  we  must  work  upon  the  latter.  We  have  no 
more  power  over  it,  separately,  than  we  have  over  the  reflection  of  an 
object  in  a  mirror.  Memory  is  the  reflection  of  attention.  We  can 
not  render  the  image  distinct,  unless  the  object  is  so.  The  same  is 
true  of  consciousness.  It  has  no  separate  or  independent  existence 


140  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

It  is,  so  to  speak,  the  mind's  reflection  of  itself;  it  is  but  an  act  of 
attention  directed  inward.  The  vividness,  the  definiteness,  and  the 
distinctness  of  consciousness,  are, — as  the  corresponding  properties  in 
the  act  of  attention, — blended  with  the  consentaneous  force  of  will 
cooperating  in  the  act.  In  this  latter  circumstance,  its  action  differs 
from  that  of  memory,  which  is  often,  even  in  its  most  vivid  delinea- 
tions, wholly  involuntary.  But  the  depth  and  fullness  of  conscious- 
ness are  always  dependent,  more  or  less,  on  the  force  of  the  will 
•which  directs  the  act  of  attention  inward.  It  is  thus  rendered  more 
perceptibly  a  subject  of  culture  by  educational  training. 

Morbid  Unconsciousness. — To  some  minds  the  intellectual  and 
moral  value  of  habits  of  wakeful  consciousness,  is  very  great  from, 
perhaps,  some  defect  of  organization  or  fault  of  habit,  inclining  the 
individual  to  a  half  dreamy  condition  of  reverie,  in  which  the  mind 
loses  power  over  its  own  action,  and  becomes  lost  amid  the  scenes  of 
memory  or  of  imagination.  To  the  artist  and  the  poet,  an  intensity 
of  abstracted  attention  is,  in  some  relations,  the  condition  of  imagina- 
tive power  of  conception  and  of  living  expression.  But,  in  such  cases, 
the  mind  is  healthy,  vigorous,  and  voluntary,  in  its  action  :  it  is  obey- 
ing one  of  its  own  highest  laws,  which  demands  this  almost  super- 
human power  of  abstracted  and  concentrated  attention,  for  the  contem- 
plation and  embodiment  of  ideal  images  of  perfection.  The  abstract- 
edness and  "  absence  of  mind,1'  on  the  other  hand,  which  become 
habitual  from  neglect,  are  nothing  else  than  a  morbid  unconscious- 
ness indulged, — a  result  of  organic  or  mental  weakness,  and  a  habit 
utterly  destructive  of  voluntary  power  of  attention  or  depth  of 
thought.  In  some  mournful  instances,  it  is  the  sure  precursor  of 
insanity. 

In  all  circumstances,  the  tendency  of  such  habits  is  to  cherish  a 
morbid  preponderance  of  imagination  over  reason  and  judgment,  and 
to  create  a  dreamy  twilight  of  thought,  in  preference  to  the  clear 
light  of  intellectual  day.  Listlessness  of  attention,  and  dullness  of 
understanding,  and  every  other  evil  of  mental  torpor,  are  thus 
entailed  on  the  intellectual  character. 

Cultivation  of  the  Reasoning  Faculty. — The  principle  of  reflective 
intelligence  assumes,  in  the  language  of  recognized  usage,  the  various 
forms  of  action  implied  in  the  terms  understanding,  judgment,  reason  ; 
and  this  triple  denomination  suggests  also  the  progressive  measures 
adopted  in  education,  for  the  cultivation  of  this  master  power  of 
intellect. 

Understanding,  as  the  primary  act  and  condition  of  intelligence,  is 
involved  in  every  instance  of  perception,  even  in  the  cognizance  of  the 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  141 

mere  form  and  character  of  outward  objects ;  in  the  contemplation 
of  facts,  its  aid  is  indispensable  to  the  apprehension  of  their  connec- 
tions and  relations  ;  and,  in  the  tracing  of  these,  its  assistance  is  requi- 
site to  enable  the  mind  to  arrive  at  the  comprehension  of  principles  and 
causes.  When  the  mind  is  unable  to  put  forth  this  prehensile,  (seiz- 
ing, grasping,  holding?)  power,  we  say,  in  current  phrase,  the  connec- 
tion, the  principle,  the  cause,  or  the  relation,  is  "  not  understood." 
Keverting  to  the  etymological  signification  of  the  term,  by  which  this 
faculty  is  designated,  we  observed  that  the  action  of  the  "understand- 
ing "  was  represented  as  a  necessary  ground,  or  foundation,  without 
which,  of  course,  there  could  be  no  superstructure  of  thought  or 
knowledge.  In  the  terms  now  introduced,  which  denote  the  two 
chief  forms  of  action  in  the  process  of  understanding,  the  figurative 
suggestion  is  not  less  forcible  or  appropriate,  than  in  the  former  in- 
stance. The  uninformed  understanding,  is,  in  the  latter  case,  repre- 
sented as  the  powerless  hand,  which  is  not  put  forth,  which  does  not 
lay  hold  on  its  object,  or  which  lets  it  slip. 

Natural  Development  of  the  Understanding.  —  The  appropriate 
training  of  this  fundamental  faculty  of  the  mind  is  distinctly  indicated 
to  the  educator  in  the  first  natural  workings  of  intellect  in  child- 
hood. The  inciting  principle  of  curiosity  impels  the  child  to  observe 
and  to  learn.  But  he  is  not  satisfied  with  the  mere  knowledge  of  the 

o 

external  character  of  objects ;  he  is  eagerly  desirous  to  understand 
their  internal  construction,  and  hence  he  tears  open,  and  pulls  to 
pieces,  even  the  flower  which  delights  him  ;  and  the  indulgent  father 
knows  that  it  needs  a  sharp  eye  to  keep  the  little  investigator  from 
practicing  a  similar  experiment  on  a  gold  watch. 

Educational  Development. — That  spirit  of  inquisition  which  is  im- 
planted in  the  mind,  to  secure  its  progressive  development,  renders 
the  examination  and  inspection  of  objects,  for  the  discovery  of  their 
internal  structure  and  character,  an  exercise  still  more  attractive  and 
inviting  to  a  child  than  that  of  the  perception  even  of  beauty  in  form 
or  color;  and  the  investigation  of  the  connection  and  relations  of 
phenomena  and  of  facts,  yields  him  a  deeper  gratification  than  the 
delight  arising  from  the  recognition  of  any  merely  exterior  trait  of 
character  in  outward  objects.  Here,  then,  is  the  proper  place  where 
to  commence  the  training  of  the  understanding  to  the  exercise  of 
true  apprehension  and  full  comprehension,  in  the  acqusition  of  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  the  objects  by  which  the  child  is  naturally  sur- 
rounded, and  of  their  relations  to  one  another,  in  mutual  adaptation, 
or  in  cause  and  effect.  Perception  is  thus  transmuted  into  knowledge  ; 
without  which  transition  there  is  no  intellectual  progress.  The 


142  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

understanding  of  relations  is  the  mediating  process  by  which  object  is 
linked  to  object,  fact  to  fact,  and  relation  to  relation  ;  till  knowledge,  in 
its  turn,  becomes  the  completed  chain  of  principle  and  truth,  in  the 
relations  of  system  and  science. 

Practical  Exercises. — One  of  the  most  hopeful  indications  of  the 
general  progress  of  opinion  on  the  subject  of  education,  is  afforded  in 
the  comparatively  recent  introduction  into  primary  schools  of  lessons 
on  objects, — not  merely  the  productions  of  nature  in  animal  and  vege- 
table and  mineral  form,  but  the  common  objects  of  observation  in  the 
child's  daily  notice  at  home  and  in  school,  in  the  street,  and  in  the 
workshop.  The  young  mind  is  thus  strengthened,  while  it  is  gratified, 
by  the  exercise  of  tracing  design  and  adaptation  in  the  various  contriv- 
ances of  mechanical  ingenuity.  The  conscious  understanding  of  re- 
lations and  processes,  becomes  to  the  mind  what  the  expanding  and 
enlivening  influence  of  light  is  to  the  plant;  while  the  self-intelligent 
agent  enjoys  the  double  pleasure  of  growth  and  the  consciousness  of 
it.  Understanding,  as  the  mind's  prehensile  and  digestive  power,  ap- 
propriates to  itself  the  material  of  its  own  life  and  strength,  and  quickens 
and  expands  with  every  acquisition,  till  it  reaches  the  culminating 
point  of  the  full  maturity  and  vigor  of  a  well-developed  capacity. 

Observation  of  the  processes  of  Nature. — Next  to  the  study  of  the 
elementary  principles  and  application  of  mechanics,  as  a  means  of  en- 
lightening and  invigorating  the  understanding  by  disciplinary  exercises 
in  tracing  combination  and  operations  to  their  causes,  should  come 
appropriate  exercises  in  watching  and  tracing  the  great  processes  of 
nature,  daily  passing  before  the  learner's  observation,  and  inviting  him 
to  the  study  of  those  larger  displays  of  power  and  intelligence,  which 
are  exhibited  in  the  mechanism  of  the  worlds  moving  in  space,  and 
obeying  the  laws  of  time. 

The  chemistry  of  nature,  too,  should  be  made  to  furnish  ample  em- 
ployment for  the  exercise  of  the  understanding,  in  tracing  the  curious 
relations  which  that  vast  department  of  knowledge  discloses.  No 
science  has  more  power  than  chemistry  to  stimulate  curiosity,  and  pro- 
voke inquiry,  and  thus  invite  the  mind  to  penetrate  the  mysteries  of 
nature,  and  evolve  the  hidden  causes  and  secret  influences  at  work  in 
phenomena,  which  the  mind  can  not  contemplate  without  the  feeling 
of  wonder,  and  which,  at  first,  seem  to  baffle  the  power  of  intelli- 
gence; but  through  which  the  prying  eye  of  the  understanding 
learns,  ere  long,  to  penetrate,  in  the  inquest  of  relations  by  which 
mystery  is  solved  and  difficulty  explained.  A  simple  elementary 
course  of  experiments,  in  this  department  of  science,  by  the  light 
which  it  sheds  on  common  phenomena,  exerts  a  great  power  over  the 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  ^43 

young  mind; — suggesting  inquiries  and  leading  to  investigations 
which  call  the  understanding  into  wakeful  and  vigorous  action  on  all 
facts  accessible  to  observation.  The  teacher,  who  is  true  to  his  office, 
as  guardian  of  the  young  mind,  and  who  takes  pleasure  in  aiding  the 
formation  of  habits  of  intelligence  and  inquiry,  will  spare  neither 
time,  nor  trouble,  nor  expense,  in  his  endeavors  to  secure  to  his  pupils 
the  benefit  of  such  aids  to  their  intellectual  culture. 

Combined  Exercises  of  Understanding  and  Judgment :  Arithmetic. 
In  the  department  of  mathematical  science,  there  is  no  lack  of  at- 
tention to  the  study  of  arithmetic,  as  an  important  branch  of  exercise 
and  discipline  for  the  reflective  faculties,  in  the  relations  of  the  under- 
standing operating  on  numbers.  In  this  branch  of  culture,  the  pure- 
ly mental  processes  first  introduced  by  Pestalozzi,  and  transferred  to 
American  schools  by  the  late  Warren  Colburn,  have  let  in  a  flood  of 
light  not  only  on  the  subject  of  arithmetic,  as  an  instrument  of  intel- 
lectual discipline,  but  on  the  whole  field  of  education,  and  on  all  the 
details  of  methods  of  instruction,  as  regards  the  principles  of  rational 
and  genial  development  applied  to  the  human  mind.  Whatever  may 
be  the  .case  elsewhere,  there  are  few  schools,  in  New  England  at  least, 
in  which  arithmetic  is  not  philosophically  and  successfully  taught;  and 
the  vast  improvement,  or  rather  the  entire  renovation  of  the  character 
of  our  primary  schools,  since  the  introduction  of  Colburn's  method, 
may  well  suggest  to  the  thoughtful  teacher  the  immense  amount  of 
benefit  which  would  certainly  follow  corresponding  changes  in  other 
departments  of  education. 

Geometry. — Another  branch  of  mathematics  admirably  adapted  to 
the  cultivation  of  the  mind's  reflective  and  reasoning  powers,  when 
applied  to  external  relations,  and  one  which  forms,  by  its  very  nature,  the 
vestibule  to  all  the  other  apartments  of  the  great  temple  of  knowledge, 
has  not  commonly  met  with  that  attention  or  that  place  which  its  im- 
portance requires.  Geometry  is  too  commonly  deferred  till  a  late 
stage,  comparatively,  in  the  progress  of  education  ;  and  it  is,  for  the 
most  part,  taught  abstractly,  commencing  with  its  linear  forms.  But 
the  few  teachers  who  have  ventured  to  break  away  from  the  trammels 
of  routine  and  prescription,  and  who  have  taken  their  suggestion  from 
the  obvious  fact  that,  even  in  early  childhood,  the  mind  is  delighted  with 
the  observation  of  definite  forms  in  all  their  simple  varieties,  and  that, 
at  this  stage  of  progress,  form  exists  only  in  the  visible  and  tangible 
concrete,  and  not  in  the  abstract, — the  few  teachers  who  have  here 
followed  nature's  course,  and  allowed  the  young  learner  to  commence 
an  easy  elementary  and  practical  study  of  geometry  in  its  relation  to 
solid  objects,  have  found  no  difficulty  arising  from  permitting  children 


144  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

to  commence  their  attention  to  this  branch  of  knowledge  at  a  very 
early  age,  and  to  unspeakable  advantage,  as  regards  the  exactness  of 
mental  habit  which  this  mode  of  discipline  so  peculiarly  tends  to  form. 

From  the  observation  and  study  of  the  solid,  the  transition  is 
rational,  natural  arid  easy  to  the  consideration  and  examination  of  its 
surface  ;  and  here  another  wide  field  of  thought  is  opened  to  the 
mind  of  the  juvenile  learner, — yet  one  which  is  perfectly  practicable 
to  his  faculties,  and  which  he  can  always  submit  to  actual  survey  and 
ocular  measurement.  With  the  solid  body  in  his  hand,  the  little 
student  finds  it  an  easy  and  a  pleasing  step  to  proceed  from  the  con- 
templation of  the  surface,  to  that  of  its  "edges,"  as  he  calls  the 
boundary  lines  of  the  surface ;  and  here  still  another  delightful  scope 
of  observation  opens  to  his  mind,  as  he  proceeds  to  compare  line  with 
line,  and,  applying  the  definite  and  exact  relations  of  number,  learns 
to  measure,  and  thus  to  ghie  certainty  and  precision  to  his  observations, 
and  accuracy  to  his  conceptions. 

General  Effects  of  Mathematical  Discipline. — In  the  more  advanced 
stages  of  education,  the  modes  of  instruction  in  the  department  of 
mathematics,  are,  from  the  nature  of  the  subject,  of  a  character  so 
definite  and  comparatively  immutable  as  to  suggest  methods  and  forms 
of  exercise  uniform  and  sure.  Hence,  the  admirable  results  secured  by 
the  discipline  to  which  the  reasoning  powers  are  subjected  in  the 
prosecution  of  these  studies.  The  value  of  mathematical  training 
consists,  chiefly,  in  the  exactness  of  attention  and  discrimination,  and 
in  the  orderly  procedure  of  thought  required  in  the  processes  which 
it  prescribes,  and,  consequently,  in  the  correctness  of  conception  and 
accuracy  of  judgment  thus  attained  in  the  habits  of  the  mind. 
Another  invaluable  advantage  of  mathematical  studies,  connected 
more  immediately,  however,  with  their  advanced  stages  of  mental  ap- 
plication, consists  in  the  extent  and  scope  of  their  operations,  com- 
bined with  the  perfect  sequence  of  every  step  in  their  procedure,  and 
the  confidence  which  they  serve  to  create  in  the  mind's  own  action,  by 
the  certainty  of  its  conclusions. 

The  main  duty  of  the  teacher,  in  this  department  of  education,  lies, 
from  the  very  character  of  the  subject,  in  watching  carefully  the 
mind's  first  steps  in  the  earliest  stages  of  exercise ;  so  as  to  see  to  it 
that  the  perfect  rigor  of  intellectual  discipline  is  attained,  which  mathe- 
matical science  is  designed  to  produce,  that  there  be  no  yielding  to 
juvenile  impatience,  tending  to  laxity  of  attention,  careless  assumption, 
heedless  oversight,  and  unconscious  inaccuracy  of  mental  habit.  lu 
more  advanced  stages  of  progress,  the  successive  branches  of  the  sub- 
ject afford,  by  their  own  intrinsic  character,  a  comparative  security 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES  145 

for  correctness  in  the  processes  of  evolution,  and  especially  in  the 
case  of  all  students  whose  first  steps  have  been  carefully  watched. 

Common  Mistake. — There  is  an  opinion  somewhat  prevalent,  e\fen 
among  those  who  have  the  control  of  education,  that  the  certainty 
of  mathematical  reasoning,  depending  on  the  peculiar  character  of  the 
grounds  on  which  it  rests,  has  but  little  effect  on  the  formation  of  ac- 
curate habits  of  judgment  in  relations  which  have  no  firmer  founda- 
tion than  matters  of  opinion,  or  of  taste,  or  of  metaphysical  inquiry. 
But,  in  this  view  of  the  question,  the  inevitable  influence  of  the  law 
of  analogy  on  the  constitution  and  habits  of  the  mind  is  overlooked. 
The  educational  effect  of  any  study  lies  not  so  much  in  the  specific 
character  of  the  subject,  or  the  particular  exercises  of  intellect  which 
any  one  of  its  processes  requires,  as  -in  the  analogous  tendencies  and 
habits  which  the  given  exercise  contributes  to  form.  The  perfect  pre- 
cision of  observation,  the  scrupulous  correctness  of  judgment,  and  the 
strict  sequence  of  thought,  which  mathematical  operations*  demand, 
are  invaluable  aids  to  every  process  of  mind  in  which  the  reasoning 
faculties  are  employed.  A  disproportioued  excess  of  attention  to 
mathematics  in  the  assignments  of  education,  may,  certainly,  be 
chargeable  on  the  plan  of  intellectual  culture  adopted  in  many  semi- 
naries of  learning,  and,  particularly,  of  such  as  are  devoted  to  the 
mental  training  of  the  female  sex.  But  this  mistake,  like  that  of  at- 
tempting the  exposition  of  moral  truth  by  mathematical  forms  of 
reasoning,  does  not  prove  any  want  of  adaptation  in  mathematics  to 
the  design  and  purpose  of  intellectual  discipline  on  kindred  subjects, 
or  in  the  results  of  such  discipline  in  the  formation  of  mental  habits 
and- character. 

Logical  and  Critical  Discipline. — Of  the  great  importance  of  a 
thorough  practical  logic,  for  the  discipline  of  the  reasoning  faculties, — 
a  course  comprising  processes  of  strict  personal  training  in  the  art 
of  thinking, — we  have  had  occasion  to  speak,  under  other  heads  of  our 
present  investigation,  and  on  this  topic  we  need  not  now  enlarge. 

Another  department  of  higher  mental  culture,  the  art  of  criticism^ 
was  briefly  adverted  to,  on  a  former  occasion.  As  one  of  the  highest 
forms  in  which  reason  can  be  applied,  and  as  the  ground- work  of  all 
true  discipline  of  imagination  and  taste,  it  claims  a  large  share  of  at- 
tention in  educational  training.  But,  to  render  this  department  of 
study  truly  beneficial,  it  needs  a  thorough  revision  and  enlargement 
of  its  plan.  As  generally  adopted  in  our  seminaries  of  learning,  it  is 
made  to  consist  too  much  of  processes  of  training  by  which  the  men- 
tal eye  is  sharpened  for  the  perception  of  error  and  the  detection  of 
defect.  This  is  but  the  negative  part  of  critical  discipline,  and  is 

1  J 


146  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

chiefly  directed  to  the  faults  of  others,  rather  than  those  of  the  observer 
himself;  while,  as  a  forming  and  moulding  process,  its  chief  benefit 
would  lie  in  its  efficacy  in  training  the  mind  to  the  perception  and 
recognition  of  positive  beauty  and  perfection,  and  in  forming  the  tastes 
and  habits  of  the  individual  by  a  strict  but  genial  preventive  discipline, 
which  should  preclude  the  tendency  to  deviation  from  the  principles 
of  beauty  and  truth.  To  secure  the  results  of  such  discipline,  a  liberal 
course  of  early  training,  directed  to  the  intelligent  recognition  of 
beauty  in  nature  and  in  art, — as  was  suggested  in  a  former  lecture, — 
becomes  an  indispensable  foundation.  The  reasoning,  on  the  data 
thus  furnished,  would  necessarily  become  positive  and  practical.  The 
mind  would  proceed  under  the  sure  guidance  of  ascertained  principle  ; 
and  the  canons,  so  called,  of  criticism,  would  have  an  authority  more 
sure  than  merely  the  speculative  opinions  of  an  individual,  or  of  a 
class  of  theorizers.  But,  so  far  are  we,  as  yet,  from  a  truly  liberal 
standard  of  education,  that  in  all  our  higher  seminaries,  scarcely  can 
we  find  a  place  assigned  to  any  course  of  aesthetic  study  or  training. 
Yet  no  species  of  discipline  could  be  prescribed  so  admirably  adapted 
to  the  generous  development  of  the  powers  of  judgment  and  reason, 
as  that  critical  exercise  by  which  the  mind,  in  the  analysis  and  combi- 
nation of  the  elements  of  beauty,  learns  to  interpret  to  its  own  con- 
sciousness the  laws  of  grace  and  of  harmony. 

Philosophical  Training. — The  principles  of  intellectual  and  moral 
philosophy,  we  have  already  adverted  to,  as  peculiarly  adapted  to  the 
discipline  of  the  reflective  faculties.  The  great  facts  which  the  mind 
recognizes  in  contemplating  the  principles  of  the  former  of  these 
branches  of  science,  and  the  vital  truths  which  it  evolves  in  tracing  the 
relations  of  the  latter  to  the  former,  call  for  the  exercise  of  reason 
and  judgment  on  materials  purely  mental,  and,  by  their  very  nature, 
fitted  to  train  the  mind  to  habits  of  close  investigation  and  nice  dis- 
crimination. On  these  habits  is  the  mind's  whole  reliance  to  be  placed 
in  tracing  the  subtle  distinctions  on  which  the  eviction  of  the 
profoundest  truths  not  unfrequently  depends. 

On  such  subjects,  as  also  in  relation  to  logic  and  criticism,  it  was 
Suggested,  in  a  former  connection  of  our  subject,  that  education  should 
be  rendered  more  personal  and  practical  in  its  methods  ;  that  it  should 
comprise,  in  its  measures  for  discipline,  the  mental  efforts  of  the 
sjtudent  himself  in  thought,  conversation  and  discussion,  rather  than 
the  mere  endeavor  to  retain  in  memory  the  definitions  and  statements 
'of  a  text-book. 

Civic  Training. — The  study  of  civil  polity,  as  it  comprehends 
subjects  collateral  to  history  and  to  ethics,  forms  a  theme  well-suited 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  J47 

to  the  exercise  of  the  mind's  reflective  powers,  b(y  the  trains  of  thought 
to  which  it  naturally  leads.  As  a  branch  of  education,  it  should  be 
extended  to  an  attentive  survey  of  all  the  political  relations  of  human 
society,  as  embodied  in  forms  of  government,  in  national  constitutions, 
in  international  law,  in  civil  institutions.  Independently  of  the  value 
of  such  investigations  to  the  intelligent  discharge  of  the  duties  of  life, 
in  all  countries  favored  with  constitutional  immunities,  the  class  of 
subjects  now  mentioned  is  of  the  utmost  moment  in  the  higher  rela- 
tions of  education,  as  affording  large  scope  and  full  exercise  for  the 
reasoning  powers,  in  the  investigations  and  discussions  to  which  such 
subjects  naturally  invite  the  mind  of  the  student.  The  discipline, 
however,  resulting  from  this  branch  of  studies,  depends,  obviously,  on 
the  extent  to  which  it  is  made  a  matter  of  personal  thought,  of  writ- 
ten dissertations,  and  of  oral  discussion,  on  the  part  of  the  student. 
In  this,  as  in  other  departments  of  ethical  science,  our  colleges  would 
do  well  to  arrange  their  exercises  on  the  model  of  the  debating  society, 
or  of  the  moot-courts  of  professional  schools;  so  as  to  elicit  voluntary 
mental  action  and  effective  cooperation  on  the  part  of  students  in  their 
own  education.  The  random  exercises  of  debating  clubs,  as  they  are 
commonly  conducted,  in  which  little  or  no  systematic  preparation  is 
made  for  discussion,  do  not  serve  such  a  purpose.  For  educational 
influences,  careful  premeditation  and  critical  supervision  are  equally 
necessary  to  render  discussion  an  appropriate  discipline. 

Natural  Thcoloyy  forms  another  branch  of  study  peculiarly  fitted 
to  call  forth  and  improve  the  reflective  and  reasoning  powers  of  the 
mind.  Every  new  advance  of  science  gives  additional  attractions  to 
this  ennobling  theme  of  contemplation.  The  profound  thought  to 
which  it  leads,  the  large  analogies  which  it  reveals,  the  great  truths 
which  it  urges  home  to  the  mind,  the  sublime  heights  to  which  it 
conducts  aspiring  reason, — all  indicate  the  high  value  of  this  branch 
of  philosophic  investigation,  as  an  effective  means  of  enlarging  and 
invigorating  the  noblest  faculties  with  which  man  is  invested. 

The  subject  of  natural  theology  is,  by  no  means,  neglected  in  our 
customary  routine  of  studies,  either  in  schools  or  colleges.  It  is  care- 
fully designated  on  the  programme  of  instruction,  and  regularly 
assigned  to  a  definite  term  of  the  course.  But  restricted,  as  the  atten- 
tion given  to  these  subjects  generally  is,  to  recitation  from  a  formal 
text-book,  little  of  the  peculiar  effect  of  personal  investigation  into 
them  is  felt  on  the  mind  at  the  time,  or  marked  on  the  subsequent 
mental  character  of  the  student.  Personal  examination,  and  actual 
analysis  and  manipulation,  are  as  much  needed  in  the  illustrations 
which  serve  to  throw  light  on  the  subject  of  natural  theology  as  they 


148  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

are  in  the  study  of  any  other  branch  of  science.  The  actual,  ocular 
inspection  of  objects,  is  felt  to  be  the  only  means  of  effective  instruc- 
tion in  all  other  subjects  which  require  the  verification  of  principle  by 
reference  to  fact.  Without  the  aid  of  such  practical  measures,  the 
best  of  text-books  becomes  dry  or  tedious,  and,  at  all  events,  fails  of 
exciting*  the  earnest  attention  and  personal  interest  which  secure  the 
energetic  action  of  the  whole  mind,  give  life  and  vigor  to  its  habits 
of  action,  and  insure  the  further  prosecution  of  inquiry  in  after  stages 
of  life. 

To  secure  an  earnest  voluntary  application  to  this  noble  study  is  not 
difficult,  if  the  instructor  take  pains  to  invite  his  students  to  personal 
investigation  of  the  numberless  evidences  of  Divine  power,  wisdom, 
and  goodness,  which  are  furnished  in  every  department  of  nature. 
The  pleasure  of  observing,  recording,  and  reporting  these,  is  one  to 
which  the  teacher  who  will  faithfully  make  the  experiment  will  find 
few  minds  so  torpid  as  to  be  insensible. 

Evidences  of  Christianity. — This  subject,  too,  has  its  appointed 
place  in  our  seminaries  of  learning;  and  that  it  is  a  study  required  in 
our  higher  schools  for  the  female  sex,  as  well  as  in  our  colleges,  is  a 
happy  indication.  But,  the  unintellectual,  unmeaning  process  of 
reciting  merely  the  paragraphs  of  a  text-book,  has  the  same  injurious 
effect  in  this  as  in  other  departments  of  education.  No  subject  can 
be  presented  to  the  mind  on  which  the  importance  of  clear  and  distinct 
views,  or  deep  impressions  and  personal  convictions  of  truth,  are  so 
important  to  the  student,  as  on  this ; — none  on  which  the  utmost 
rigor  of  deduction,  the  closest  investigation,  the  most  cautious  induc- 
tion, are  so  imperatively  demanded.  The  mere  verbatim  committing 
to  memory,  or  even  the  careful  recapitulation,  of  the  arguments 
presented  in  the  best  of  manuals,  is  a  process  too  passive  for  any  valu- 
able purpose  of  educational  influence  on  the  individual.  The  second- 
hand knowledge  thus  acquired,  makes  too  slight  an  impression  to 
become  a  permanent  personal  possession  ;  as  the  experienced  teacher 
has  sometimes  cause  to  feel  most  deeply,  when  he  sees  a  promising 
youth,  who  has  recited  his  way  successfully  through  a  whole  manual 
of  "  evidences,"  so  easily  caught  and  entangled  in  the  slight  web  of 
superficial  and  sophistical  arguments  offered  by  a  fluent  fellow-student, 
inclined  to  skeptical  habits  of  thought. 

The  result  is  quite  different  when  the  instructor  prescribes,  not  the 
mere  language  or  reasoning  of  a  single  author,  but  a  careful  compari- 
son of  several,  and  a  resume  prepared  by  the  student  himself,  together 
with  a  full  statement  of  objections,  and  the  arguments  by  which  these 
are  rebutted.  A  still  deeper  impression  is  made  on  the  mind  of  the 
individual,  when  such  recapitulations  are  made,  not  only  in  the  regular 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  549 

form  of  writing,  but  in  that  also  of  deliberate,  correct,  and,  if  possible, 
earnest  oral  expression.  It  is  thus  only  that  great  and  vital  truths 
can  be  woven  into  the  texture  of  his  own  mind,  and  become,  as  it 
were,  inseparable  parts  of  itself. 

Practical  Exercises. — In  conclusion  of  these  suggestions  regarding 
the  development  and  discipline  of  the  reflective  faculties,  a  few  other 
forms  of  practical  exercise  may  deserve  attention,  as  matters  which 
devolve  on  the  personal  action  and  diligence  of  the  teacher, — in  regard 
to  the  aid  which  his  living  instructions  and  intelligent  supervision 
ought  to  furnish,  in  addition  to  the  customary  course  prescribed  in 
manuals  or  text-books  ;  and  here  we  may  advert  to  the  great  value  of 

(1.)  Systematic  Reading,  as  a  means  of  cultivating  reflective  and 
thoughtful  habits  of  mind, — reading,  I  mean,  which  is  study,  and  not 
mere  perusal ;  reading  which  is  attentively  done,  carefully  reviewed, 
exactly  recorded,  and,  if  practicable,  orally  recounted.  Memory, 
under  such  discipline,  becomes  thoroughly  retentive,  information 
exact,  judgment  correct,  conception  clear,  thought  copious,  and 
expression  ready  arid  appropriate. 

(2.)  An  important  aid  to  systematic  reading  may  be  found  in  the 
exercise  of  writing  a  careful,  marginal  synopsis  of  valuable  works, 
comprising  all  their  principal  topics,  distinctly  presented,  and,  in 
addition  to  this,  a  penciled  analysis  of  every  prominent  head  or  para- 
graph into  its  constituent  subordinate  details.  In  the  case  of  standard 
works  of  great  value  and  permanent  authority,  it  may  be  worth  while 
to  draught  a  separate  plan  of  the  entire  work  under  study,  in  which 
the  synopsis  and  the  analysis  are  so  arranged  to  the  eye,  that  the 
advantage  of  a  mental  map  of  the  whole  subject  is  secured  for  distinct 
and  easy  recollection,  by  the  union  of  logical  and  ocular  method. 

(3.)  As  a  means  of  training  the  faculty  of  judgment  to  correctness 
in  its  decisions,  and  exactness  in  discrimination,  exercises  in  analysis, 
on  every  description  of  material,  are  of  the  greatest  value.  In  the 
earliest  stages  of  education,  these  may  be  performed,  to  great  advan- 
tage, on  objects  in  nature,  particularly  on  the  structure  and  organiza- 
tion of  plants,  with  the  aid,  too,  of  the  microscope.  At  a  more  advanced 
stage,  the  analysis  of  language,  successively  extending  to  sentences, 
clauses,  phrases,  words,  and  syllables,  in  written  as  well  as  oral  forms, 
is  another  exercise  of  great  value  for  sharpening  the  power  of  discrimin- 
ation and  forming  habits  of  correct  judgment.  Still  greater  benefit 
attends  the  oral  analysis  of  discourses,  essays,  and  other  didactic  com- 
positions, for  the  purpose  of  tracing  their  authors'  trains  of  thought, 
following  these  in  detail,  and  afterward  recording  the  analysis,  as  has 
been  already  suggested. 


150  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

(4.}  To  cultivate  successfully  the  reasoning  faculty,  no  method  more 
effectual  can  be  adopted  than  that  of  training  the  mind  to  a  perfect 
observance  of  the  prime  law  of  Order.  This  great  principle  comes  to 
the  aid  of  the  young  mind,  as  creative  ordination  applied  to  chaos. 
The  countless  multitude  and  variety  of  objects  soliciting  observation, 
in  the  early  years  of  childhood,  and  even  at  much  later  stages,  often 
throw  the  mind  into  confusion  and  perplexity,  till  order  comes  to  its 
aid,  and,  like  the  benevolent  fairy  in  the  fable,  arranges  the  compli- 
cated masses  and  irregular  accumulations,  and  lets  in  the  light  of 
system  and  method  upon  the  elements  of  the  mental  world.  Conflict- 
ing objects  and  relations  are  thus  parted  by  due  distinction  ;  accordant 
elements  and  phenomena  are  grouped  together,  by  their  analogies  and 
affinities,  their  connections  and  dependencies,  the  predominance  of  some 
and  the  subordination  of  others  ;  till,  at  length,  the  authority  of  Law 
is  recognized,  and  harmony  established. 

To  attain  this  result,  Reason,  the  supreme  ordaining  faculty,  has  to 
exert  its  power  in  various  modes  of  operation.  Judgment,  as  reason's 
executive,  has  to  collate,  examine,  compare,  associate,  combine  and 
classify  the  objects  of  observation  and  the  subjects  of  consciousness. 
For  such  purposes  no  exercises  can  be  better  adapted  than  those  which 
commence  with  the  action  of  the  perceptive  faculties,  and  yet  involve 
the  use  of  the  reflective,  to  a  certain  extent.  Nature's  great  systems, 
in  her  three  vast  kingdoms,  furnish,  of  course,  the  best  material  for 
such  exercise  and  discipline  of  the  mind,  by  combining  with  its  perceptive 
action  the  aid  of  reflecting  reason,  in  the  contemplation  and  study  of 
the  vast  domain  of  creation.  As  a  noble  discipline  for  the  rational 
faculties,  in  their  ascendancy  over  those  of  outward  observation,  and 
yet  in  perfect  harmony  and  cooperation  with  them,  no  exercise  can  be 
more  beneficial  than  that  of  surveying,  in  the  light  of  science,  the 
elements  and  forms  of  external  nature.  An  illustration  in  point  may 
be  found  in  the  science  of  botany,  which  is  now  rendered  so  generally 
accessible  and  so  highly  attractive,  by  recent  manuals  presenting  this 
subject  on  the  "  natural "  system,  as  an  instructive  and  interesting  branch 
of  knowledge  for  all  minds.  Another  example  occurs  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  animal  kingdom  presented  by  Cuvier,  and  modified  by 
our  great  contemporary  naturalist,  Agassiz.  The  generous  labors  of 
this  distinguished  instructor,  in  his  endeavors  to  bring  his  favorite 
subject  before  the  minds  of  teachers,  in  forms  happily  adapted  to  the 
condition  of  their  schools,  have  afforded  the  best  suggestions  for 
conducting  appropriate  exercises  in  this  department  of  education.  And 
it  is  to  be  hoped  that  many  of  our  seminaries  will  henceforward  enjoy 
the  benefits  of  the  admirable  mental  discipline  resulting  from  those 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  151 

habits  of  attentive  observation,  careful  examination,  and  close  analysis, 
as  well  as  those  of  orderly  arrangement,  enlarged  contemplation,  and 
systematic  classification,  which  the  thorough  study  of  nature  is  so  hap- 
pily  adapted  to  insure. 

But  it  should  never  be  forgotten  by  the  teacher  that  it  is  the  extent 
to  which  the  student  is  induced  to  carry  the  personal  observation  and 
actual  collection  of  natural  objects,  and  the  care  and  fidelity  with 
which  he  arranges  his  specimens  according  to  the  requirements  of 
scientific  classification,  which  determine  how  far  the  higher  powers  of 
his  mind  will  be  benefited  by  the  study.  There  are  too  many  semi- 
naries, even  now,  in  which  the  teacher,  far  from  following  the  instruc- 
tive personal  example  of  the  eminent  authority  to  whom  we  have  just 
referred,  and  joining  their  students  in  the  actual  exploration  of  nature, 
in  the  field  exercises  of  observing  and  collecting,  permit  them  to  stay 
within  doors,  and  "  study  "  the  whole  subject  by  book. 

The  value  of  personal  observation  and  actual  investigation,  as  the 
only  sure  means  of  rendering  the  educational  materials  furnished  in 
external  nature,  and  in  the  action  of  the  percipient  intellect  on  these, 
conducive  to  the  development  and  discipline  of  the  mind's  reflective 
power,  is  evinced  in  all  the  other  relations  and  departments  of  physi- 
cal science.  The  study  of  astronomy,  as  commonly  conducted  in  our 
seminaries  of  all  grades,  has  been,  till  recently,  a  process  of  mere  book- 
work,  of  committing  to  memory  the  successive  sentences  of  a  manual, 
and  repeating  them  by  word  of  mouth.  The  actual  observation  of 
the  heavens  was  a  thing  not  thought  of  but  as  a  matter  of  occasional 
gratification  to  curiosity ;  while,  to  render  astronomy  an  effective 
instrument  of  mental  culture,  capable  of  awakening  attention  and 
eliciting  reflection,  the  nightly  survey  of  the  varying  aspects  of  the 
firmament,  in  conjunction  with  the  passing  hours,  and  the  actual  posi- 
tions, or  apparent  shifting  of  the  planetary  bodies,  should  be  continued 
till  the  eye  finds  itself,  so  to  speak,  at  home  in  that  upper  world  of 
wondrous  facts,  and  the  observer  can  literally  **  call  the  stars  by  name." 

Many  teachers  have  it  easily  in  their  power  to  render  the  young 
mind  this  noble  service,  which  may  stamp  a  thoughtful  character  on 
its  habits  of  action  for  a  whole  life-time.  Happily,  many  of  our  col- 
leges are  now  enabled  to  offer  to  those  who  enjoy  the  superior  oppor- 
tunities of  studf  afforded  by  such  seminaries,  the  facilities  for  actual 
observation,  which  modern  science  and  art  so  amply  provide,  in  this 
department  of  education.  But,  in  most  of  our  higher  schools  and 
academies, — even  in  some  which  are  favored  with  the  possession  and 
occasional  use  of  a  telescope, — the  actual  study  of  the  heavens,  even 
with  the  naked  eye,  or  the  humblest  endeavor  to  note  the  position  and 


]52  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

movements  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  so  as  to  enable  the  learner  intelli- 
gently to  read  the  sky,  remains,  as  yet,  a  thing  seldom  attempted. 

Were  early  education  in  this  department  rightly  conducted,  the 
young  student  would  be  prepared  to  receive  with  delight  those  sub- 
lime revelations  of  astronomical  science  which  exhibit  the  laws  of  order 
and  subordination, — of  mutual  influence  and  adjustment, — ruling  in 
the  apparent  "  wilderness  of  worlds,"  and  indicating  the  controlling 
power  of  that  Reason  which  presides  in  eternal  supremacy  over  the 
universe. 

CONCLUDING  EXPLANATIONS. 

The  brief  and  imperfect  survey  of  the  ground  and  principles  of 
intellectual  culture,  which  is  here  concluded,  was,  as  has  been  inti- 
mated, originally  presented  in  the  form  of  conversational  oral  lectures 
to  successive  classes  of  young  teachers  and  of  persons  intending  to 
enter  on  the  occupation  of  teaching.  The  views  presented  in  these 
lectures  were  adapted,  therefore,  to  the  mental  circumstances  of 
students  to  some  of  whom  any  form  of  systematic  investigation  on  the 
subject  of  intellectual  discipline  was  wholly  new,  and  to  many  of 
whom  the  philosophy  of  education  was,  as  yet,  a  field  unexplored. 
This  fact  will  serve  to  explain  the  strictly  elementary  character  of  the 
preceding  discussion,  and  the  familiar  style  of  its  illustrations,  as  well 
as  the  frequent  iteration  of  special  topics  ;  while  the  vast  importance  of 
the  subject  itself,  in  relation  to  the  anticipated  office  and  duties  of  the 
teacher,  as  the  educator  and  guardian  of  the  young  rnind,  together 
with  the  acknowledged  too  general  neglect  of  such  considerations, 
rendered  it  necessary  that  the  lecturer  should  endeavor  to  present  the 
whole  work  of  education  in  the  impressive  light  of  the  highest  rela- 
tions and  principles  of  human  action. 

To  some  of  the  readers  of  this  journal,  therefore,  the  whole  series 
of  these  lectures  may  have  seemed  common-place  and  uninteresting  ; 
and  to  others  the  course  of  analysis  may  have  seemed  too  abstract  and 
philosophical  for  the  ordinary  purposes  and  business  of  education. 
The  contributor  of  this  and  the  preceding  communications  of  the  series 
to  the  pages  of  this  journal  can  only  plead,  in  answer  to  both  classes 
of  objections,  that,  for  many  years,  his  personal  field  of  observation 
and  of  action  has  made  it  necessary  for  him  to  endeavor  to  meet  the 
wants  of  ingenuous  minds,  conscious  of  deficiencies  in  their  own  course 
of  early  training,  and  earnestly  desirous  of  the  guiding  light  of  the 
simplest,  yet  the  highest,  educational  principles,  to  direct  their  own 
efforts  for  the  advancement  of  others.  Successive  years,  occupied  in 
three  of  our  New  England  States,  in  endeavoring  to  aid  the  noble 
aspirations  of  those  whose  daily  labors  form  the  ground  of  the 


CULTIVATION  OF  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES.  153 

intellectual  and  moral  hope  of  the  community,  have  convinced  the  writer  •'•• 
that  the  teacher's  professional  wants  are  most  satisfactorily  met  when 
elementary  principles  of  education  are  simply  stated  and  practically 
illustrated,  and  the  highest  relations  of  human  duty  are  presented  as 
the  motives  to  personal  and  professional  action. — Long  may  the  "  plain 
living  and  high  thinking  "  of  their  ancestry  continue  to  characterize  the 
teachers  of  New  England  ! 

The  allusions  made,  in  the  course  of  the  preceding  discussion,  to 
existing  defects  in  "higher"  seminaries,  might  seem  uncalled  for  in  a 
course  of  remarks  addressed  to  young  teachers.  To  explain  this 
apparent  intrusion,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  say,  that  some  of  the  classes 
to  which  these  lectures  were  originally  addressed  included  among 
their  members  individuals  who,  though  young  both  in  years  and 
experience,  were  graduates  of  the  highest  class  of  literary  institutions, 
were  anticipating  professional  employment  in  such  establishments,  and 
were  attending  the  course  of  lectures  with  reference  to  the  application, 
in  their  personal  instructions,  of  the  principles  under  discussion. 

Apart,  however,  from  this  relation  of  circumstances,  the  considera- 
tion of  principles  of  education,  and  methods  of  instruction,  necessarily 
extends  through  the  whole  educational  course  of  training;  and  defec- 
tive methods  of  teaching  are  but  little  less  injurious  in  the  higher  than 
in  the  lower  forms  of  culture.  The  fact,  moreover,  is  undeniable,  that 
the  renovation  of  the  character  of  instruction,  whether  at  home  or 
abroad,  has  uniformly  commenced  in  the  primary  stages  of  education, 
and  won  its  way  gradually  upward  ; — a  circumstance  easily  accounted 
for,  when  we  recollect  that,  in  the  reformation,  now  so  generally 
effected  in  elementary  teaching,  more  regard  has  been  paid  to  the 
wants  of  the  mind,  and  less  to  the  demands  of  subjects,  than  formerly 
was  the  case  in  the  management  of  primary  schools,  or  than  is  now, 
in  the  customary  regulation  of  institutions  of  the  highest  nominal 
order,  in  most  of  which  the  subject  of  study  is  still  too  uniformly 
regarded  in  preference  to  the  instrument  of  study. 

To  some  readers  of  the  journal,  the  intellectual  philosophy,  involved 
in  the  principles  adopted  in  the  preceding  analysis  of  mental  action 
and  development,  may  not  seem  satisfactory, — as  not  according,  in 
express  terms,  with  established  authorities  on  such  topics.  To  objec- 
tions of  this  character  the  author  can  only  suggest  that,  in  the  circum- 
stances of  many  of  those  to  whom  his  lectures  were  addressed,  it  was 
not  practicable  to  assume  the  data  of  a  previous  course  of  study  in 
intellectual  philosophy  ;  and  all  that  could  properly  be  done,  on  his 
part,  was  to  interweave,  with  his  suggestions  for  the  guidance  of 

instructors  in  their  professional  endeavors,  such  elementary  views  of 

1  K 


154  CULTIVATION  OP  THE  REFLECTIVE  FACULTIES. 

mental  action   and  tendency  as  might  afford   intelligible  ground  for 
these  suggestions. 

At  the  same  time,  the  writer  feels  free  to  say  that,  following  the 
counsels  of  his  own  instructor,  the  venerable  Jardine,  (a  student  and 
successor  of  Dr.  Reid,)  he  could  not  adopt  any  "  system  "  of  intellec- 
tual philosophy  as  such.  All  systems  hitherto  offered  have  contri- 
buted useful  suggestions  for  the  guidance  of  inquiry.  But  none,  as 
yet,  can  be  regarded  as  exhaustive  or  complete.  The  mind,  as  a  sub- 
ject of  study,  has  not  yet  received  the  humble  measure  of  justice 
which  we  yield  to  a  plant  or  a  mineral, — a  careful  observation  and 
close  examination  of  its  own  character,  apart  from  the  obscuring 
influence  of  the  conflicting  views  and  metaphysical  speculations  of 
great  writers  and  eminent  authorities.  But,  to  the  teacher,  philosophi 
cal  theory  is  a  doubtful  aid,  compared  to  his  own  daily  inspection 
of  the  mind  itself,  in  its  actual  working  and  obvious  tendencies.  He 
is,  if  he  understands  his  position,  himself  a  primary  observer,  authority 
and  reporter,  in  the  science  of  mind,  as  developed  in  the  processes  of 
education.  His  work  is  that  of  a  living  philosopher,  in  act.  To  his 
young  disciples,  he  is  Plato,  and  Socrates,  and  Aristotle,  embodied  in 
one  person  ; — opening  to  their  expanding  minds  the  highest  spiritual, 
moral,  and  intellectual  relations  of  truth. 

The  ground  thus  assigned  as  the  field  of  the  teacher's  labor,  is  not 
too  high  to  be  assumed  by  any  instructor,  whatever  be  the  nominal 
rank  of  the  seminary  in  which  he  teaches.  A  mind  accustomed  to 
large  views,  and  working  on  broad  principles,  will,  unconsciously  antl 
necessarily,  adopt  methods  correspondent,  and  will  radiate,  from  its 
own  action,  light  and  truth  throughout  the  sphere  of  its  influence. 
Nowhere  is  this  statement  more  strikingly  verified  than  in  the  case  of 
an  intelligent  teacher,  in  the  direction  and  instruction  of  an  element- 
ary school.  It  is  in  this  sphere  that  ingenuity,  and  tact,  and  origin- 
ality, arid  skill  are  most  needed,  in  endeavors  to  develop  intellectual 
capabilities,  and  build  up  the  great  fabric  of  mental  power.  Nowhere 
else,  in  the  whole  field  of  education,  is  the  demand  so  urgent  for  a 
thorough  insight  into  the  nature  and  working  of  the  mind,  for  the 
light  to  guide  its  advances,  or  the  power  to  mold  its  expanding 
character. 


INDEX. 


Alphabet,  mere  drilling  on,  injurious, 
p.  16 ;  error  of  omitting  the  sounds 
of  letters,  81 ;  recognition  of  the 
forms  of  letters^  38. 

Analogy,  the  medium  of  expression,  63. 

Analysis,  preliminary  of  intellectual 
faculties,  11 ;  as  a  process,  facilitated 
bv  training  on  objects,  29;  its  disci- 
plinary character  and  value,  46,  47. 

Apparatus,  educational,  provision  of,  26. 

Art,  pictorial,  as  a  discipline  of  the  per- 
ceptive faculties,  30. 

Articulation,  practice  of,  32. 

Attention,  delinition  of,  13  ;  as  a  volun- 
tary act,  34,  35 ;  promptness  of,  35  ; 
earnestness,  36  ;  closeness,  37  ;  aided 
by  the  microscope,  conducive  to  al- 
phabetic instruction,  to  mathematical 
attainments,  38  :  tenacity  of,  its  val- 
ue, how  attained,  39  ;  ultimate  etf'ects 
on  mental  power,  40. 

Classification  as  a  disciplinary  process, 
55  ;  its  appropriate  materials  for  early 
training,  56. 

Communication,  the  result  of  the  action 
of  the  expressive  faculties ;  viewed 
as  a  power,  78 ;  its  intellectual  and 
moral  effects,  its  value,  79. 

Comparison,  as  a  disciplinary  exercise 
for  the  expressive  faculties,  its  influ- 
ence on  rational  and  reflective  pro- 
cesses, 53;  its  relations  to  classifica- 
tion and  induction,  to  order,  method, 
law,  principleSj  rule ;  proper  materi- 
als for  its  exercise,  54. 

Composition,  practice  of;  defective 
methods,  85  ;  seasonable  training,  86. 

Conception,  etymology  and  acceptation 
of  the  term,"  106;  different  views  of 
this  faculty ;  107 ;  its  susceptibility  of 
culture,  its  intellectual  and  moral  val- 
ue, 10S. 

Concluding  explanations,  152. 

Consciousness,  etymology  of  the  term, 
108  ;  fitness  of  its  application,  differ- 
ent opinions  of  the  nature  of  this  fac- 
ulty, 109  ;  educational  view ;  intel- 
lectual and  moral  offices  of  conscious- 
ness, 110  ;  its  educational  culture,  111. 

Culture,  intellectual,  outline  of,  11,  12. 

Curiosity,  the  actuating  principle  of  the 
perceptive  faculties,  14. 

Deduction,  as  a  process  of  reason,  116. 

Direction,  as  a  didactic  process,  51 ;  ex- 
emplified, 52. 

Drawing,  its  effects  as  a  discipline  of 
the  perceptive  faculties,  30 ;  common 
mistake  regarding  its  relation  to  the 
cultivation  of  taste,  91. 

Elocution:  as  a  discipline  of  the  ear ;  its 
connections  with  music,  oratory,  poe- 
try, 33  ;  errors  in  instruction,  86  ;  in 
theory,  exemplified  by  Dr.  Whately, 
87,  90. 

Emotion,  its  offices  in  expression ;  a  re- 
sult of  sensibility,  59  ;  naturally  spon- 
taneous and  involuntary,  the  language 


of  sympathy,  its  various  forms,  60 ; 
its  different  effects ;  its  influence  on 
language,  61. 

English  language,  neglect  of,  81,  99, 
100. 

Enunciation,  its  connection  with  articu- 
lation and  pronunciation.  32. 

Errors  in  education: — in  tlie  order  of 
cultivation,  13 ;  m  school  regime, 
16,  19 ;  in  the  cultivation  of  the 
expressive  faculties, — repression,  76  ; 
limited  exercise  in  passive  forms.  80  ; 
incorrect  example,  false  alphabetic 
training,  81 ;  neglect  of  the  meaning 
of  words,  defective  reading  exercises, 
82,  83  ;  arbitrary  methods  of  teaching 
grammar,  composition,  84,  85 ;  rhet- 
oric, elocution,  86 — 1*0 ;  drawing,  mu- 
sic, vocal  and  instrumental,  91 — 93; 
remedies  for  these  errors,  93 — 100. 

Etymology  of  terms  applied  to  mental 
action,  and  educational  relations,  18, 
49,  50,  101.  106,  107,  108.  Ill,  112, 
116,  117. 

Expressive  faculties,  cultivation  of: 
their  place  in  the  order  of  action  and 
development,  57 ;  classification  of, 
58.;  their  actuating  principle,  70;  their 
tendency,  75 ;  result  of  their  action, 
78 ;  their  educational  processes,  80, 
93—100. 

Fancy,  its  effects  on  expression,  64. 

Feeling,  the  actuating  principle  of  the 
expressive  faculties,  70 ;  an  incite- 
ment to  sympath^,  an  instigation  ;  in- 
fluenced Dy  imagination  ana  volition ; 
its  influence  on  the  artist,  71 ;  the 
child,  the  adult,  the  actor  and  his  au- 
dience, the  orator,  the  poet,  and  on 
all  forms  of  expression,  72 ;  on  moral 
character;  on  art,  as  exemplified  in 
music,  73 ;  on  language  and  litera- 
ture ;  its  subjection  to  the  guidance 
of  education,  74. 

Furniture,  intellectual,  for  schoolrooms, 
16. 

Gesture,  a  subject  of  cultivation,  90. 

Grammar,  methods  of  instruction,  84, 
85. 

Ilolbrook,  Josiah,  an  example  to  teach- 
ers, 44. 

Imagination,  significance  of  the  term ; 
sphere  of  the  faculty,  64. 

Imitation,  its  tendencies;  drawing,  as 
an  imitative  art ;  music,  65. 

Inference,  as  a  process  of  reason,  116. 

Information,  as  a  guide  to  observation, 
51,  52. 

Inquiry,  the  actuating  principle  of  the 
reflective  faculties  ;  its  analogy  to  cu- 
riosity, 121. 

Inspection  of  objects,  as  a  disciplinary 
exercise  ;  exemplified  in  botany,  48 ; 
in  zoology,  49. 

Interrogation,  as  an  intellectual  disci- 
pline, 49  ;  book  questions,  children's 
questions,  50 ;  leading  questions,  51. 


156 


RUSSELL  ON  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 


Intuition,  an  act  of  reason,  116. 

Investigation,  the  tendency  of  action  in 
the  reflective  faculties  ;  its  directions, 
122 — exemplified  in  the  scientific  trav- 
eler, the  astronomer;  the  historian, 
the  philologist,  123 — m  the  mechani- 
cian, the  chemist ;  its  value  in  all  the 
higher  relations  of  thought,  124. 

Judgment,  identical  with  reason,  119. 

Knowledge,  the  result  of  the  action  of 
the  perceptive  faculties,  21 ;  actual, 
22 ;  verbal  accuracy  a  false  test  of: 
true  knowledge  experimental  and 
personal,  23. 

Language,  a  measure  of  power,  68  ;^  its 
vtilue,  69;  study  of  languages  ancient 
and  modern,  of  "the  English  language, 
98—100. 

Memory,  the  basis  of  reflective  power ; 
remembrance,  103;  intellectual  and 
moral  offic.es  of  memory,  recollection, 
104;  suggestive  power  of  memory, 
105  ;  its  susceptibility  of  cultivation, 
106. 

Method,  importance  of,  to  the  teacher,  10. 

Methods,  defective,  of  instruction,  re- 
garding the  action  of  the  reflective 
faculties,  127  ;  exemplified  with  ref- 
erence to  reading,  arithmetic,  geogra- 
phy, history,  language,  logic,  intel- 
factual  and  moral  philosophy,  121' — 
134 ;  appropriate  methods  for  the  dis- 
cipline of  the  reflective  faculties, 
135—151. 

Modeling,  its  uses  in  training  the  per- 
ceptive faculties,  30. 

Models,  false,  in  music;  their  injurious 
effects,  93.  . 

Monotony,  evils  of,  in  modes  of  train- 
ing, 15. 

Music,  as  a  discipline  for  the  ear,  31 ; 
errors  regarding  it,  91 — 93. 

Nature,  importance  of  early  study  of, 
20;  universal  susceptibility  to  its  in- 
fluence, eifects  of  on  mental  charac- 
ter, 21 ;  value  of  the  study  and  ob- 
servation of  it,  as  a  discipline  of  in- 
tellect, 40. 

Novelty,  need  of  in  modes  of  early 
training,  15. 

Objects,  study  of,  with  reference  to  col- 
or, form,  measure,  number,  organiza- 
tion, 27—29. 

Observation,  definition  of,  13  ;  its  influ- 
ence as  an  instinctive  intellectual  ten- 
dency, 17;  its  effects  as  a  habit,  18; 
cherished  by  early  attention  to  ele- 
mentary botany,  geology,  mineralogy, 
zo5logy,  19 ;  habits  of  attentive  ob- 
servation, how  secured  and  confirmed, 
41—46. 

Perception,  definition  of,  13. 

Perceptive  faculties,  cultivation  of,  9; 
contemplated  with  reference  to  their 
classification,  12,  13 ;  their  actuating 
principle,  14 — 17  ;  their  tendency, 
17 — 21 ;  the  result  of  their  action, 
21 — 26  ;  their  appropriate  educational 
processes  of  exercise,  development, 
and  discipline,  20 — 55. 


Personation,  as  a  mode  of  expression, 
66 ;  exemplified  in  the  successive 
stages  of  life,  67. 

Philosophy,  mental  importance  of,  to 
the  teacher,  120. 

Plan  necessary  for  the  guidance  of  the 
teacher,  10. 

Processes,  educational,  for  the  disci- 
pline of  the  perceptive  faculties,  12, 
26 — 55 ;  of  the  expressive,  80,  93 — 
100;  of  the  reflective,  127—151. 

Progressive  intellection,  law  of,  26 ; 
progressive  discipline  of  the  percep- 
tive faculties,  33. 

Eatiocination,  definition  of,  117. 

Eeason, — explanatory  remark,  111 ;  ety- 
mology of  the  term ;  definiteness  and 
certainty  of  action  in  this  faculty, 
112  ;  its  offices  in  definition  and  dis- 
crimination, its  authority,,  113 ;  its 
cognizance  of  relations ;  its  invent- 
ive character,  114 ;  aberration  of  rea- 
son ;  uses  of  reason  in  analysis  and 
abstraction,  115;  intuition,  inference, 
deduction,  116 ;  generalization,  in- 
duction, ratiocination,  117  ;  reason,  as 
cognizant  of  truth,  as  susceptible  of 
cultivation,  118 ;  judgment,  under- 
standing, 119. 

Recollection,  definition  of,  104,  105. 

Reflective  faculties,  cultivation  of;  in- 
troductory observations;  etymology 
of  terms,  101 ;  classification,  102  ;  act- 
uating principle,  121;  tendency,  122 — 
124 ;  result,  125,  126 ;  educational 
processes,  127 — 151. 

Remedies  for  errors  regarding  the  culti- 
vation of  the  expressive  faculties, 
93—100. 

Remembrance,  definition  of,  103. 

Representation,  a  form  of  expression, 
67. 

Repression,  evils  of,  9; 

Revision,  necessity  of  in  the  plan  of 
education,  5,  0. 

Rhetoric,  methods  of  teaching,  86. 

Sensation2  definition  of,  _12. 

Senses,  discipline  of;  sight,  color,  27  ; 
form,  measure,  number,  28 ;  natural 
objects,  animated  forms,  29  ;  the  ear, 
music,  speech,  31. 

Speech  and  writing,  results  of  disci- 
pline, 68. 

Taste,  significance  of  the  term ;  char- 
acter of  true  taste,  69 ;  its  positive 
power ;  a  subject  of  culture,  70. 

Teacher,  his  true  point  of  view,  6  ;  his 
aim"  in  instruction,  9;  his  "need  of 
plan  and  method,  10 ;  his  place  as  an 
observer  of  the  mind,  14 ;  his  proper 
business  as  its  superintendent,  23. 

Truth,  the  result  of  the  action  of  the 
reflective  faculties,  125,  126. 

Understanding,  its  identity  with  reason, 
119. 

Utterance,  the  tendency  of  the  express- 
ive faculties,  75 — 78. 

Variety,  its  importance  in  modes  of 
culture,  15. 

Wonder,  its  analogy  to  curiosity,  15: 
its  eifects,  17. 


II.    MORAL   EDUCATION.* 

LECTURES   ADDRESSED   TO   YOUNG   TEACHERS. 
BY  WILLIAM  RUSSELL, 

Editor  of  the  American  Journal  of  Education  (Boston,)  1826-29. 


INTRODUCTORY  OBSERVATIONS. 

Importance  of  the  Stud;/  of  Marts  Moral  Constitution. — The 
vital  part  of  human  culture  is  not  that  which  makes  man  what  he  is 
intellectually,  but  that  which  makes  him  what  he  is  in  heart,  life,  and 
character.  Intellectual  cultivation,  however,  is  a  source  of  moral 
power  to  the  individual,  not  merely  in  the  mental  aid  which  it  enables 
him  to  render  to  others,  but  in  that  which  it  gives  him  for  the  under- 
standing and  government  of  himself.  All  intellectual  training,  there- 
fore, is  necessarily  moral  in  its  influence,  so  far  as  regards  enlarged 
opportunity  and  power  of  intelligent,  voluntary,  and  efficient  action. 
It  is  only  misguided  ignorance,  blinding  prejudice,  or  perverted  in- 
genuity, that  would  ignore  or  undo,  in  educational  administration,  the 
natural  union  of  morality  with  intelligence. 

A  culture  exclusively  intellectual  serves  but  to  exhibit  the  skeleton 
of  the  mental  frame,  which  moral  influence  is  to  furnish  with  the 
means  and  the  power  of  action,  and  into  which  religious  principle  is 
to  breathe  the  breath  of  life.  But  when  moral  culture  assumes  a 
separate  and  formal  character,  it  ceases  to  be  a  living  spiritual  reality, 
and  becomes  but  a  mechanical  routine  of  "the  letter''  which,  we  are 
told,  "killeth."  No  reliance  for  effective  moral  influence  on  disposi- 
tion or  character,  can  be  safely  placed  on  mere  didactic  inculcation  or 
catechetical  instruction.  The  oracles  of  Divine  truth  tell  us,  that  the 
highest  moral  training — the  spiritual — does  not  separate  ''  admonition" 
from  "nurture" — the  life-giving  influence — but  combines  the  two  in 
the  educational  process  of  "bringing  up."  The  true  study  of  the 
human  being,  as  a  subject  of  meliorating  culture,  contemplates  the 
child  in  the  living  unity  of  his  whole  nature.  It  regards  him  as  an 
intelligent  self-conscious,  self-impelling,  self-guiding,  self-responsible 
agent,  yet  dependent  on,  and  responsible  to,  the  law  of  a  higher  power 

*Ar  the  suggestion  of  Hon.  Henry  Barnard  the  following  series  of  lectures  has  been 
transcribed  from  the  author's  general  course  on  Human  Culture,  originally  addressed  to  the 
students  of  the  Merrimack,  (N.  H.,)  and  New  England,  (Lancaster,  Mass..)  Normal  Institutes. 
A  previous  series  on  Intellectual  Education,  may  be  found  by  referring  to  Vols.  II.,  Ill  ,  and 
IV.,  of  this  Journal. 


158  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

than  his  own,  which  has  summed  up  and  defined  his  individuality  in 
a  conscious  will. 

All  careful  investigation,  however,  in  the  mental,  not  less  than  in 
the  physical  world,  implies  an  examination  so  close  as  to  constitute  a 
thorough  analysis — not,  in  this  instance,  for  the  sake  of  a  mere  philo- 
sophic solution,  but  for  the  purpose  of  securing  a  true  synthetic  con- 
struction of  life  and  character,  by  the  better  understanding,  so  ob- 
tained, of  constituent  elements  and  the  influences  which  may  best 
secure  their  living  union  and  power.  In  every  process  of  " instruc- 
tion," (inward  building ,)  the  educator,  whether  parent  or  teacher,  if 
he  would  work  thoughtfully  and  successfully — if  he  would  avoid  lay- 
ing upon  the  mental  foundation  of  created  capability  a  superstructure 
of  "wood,  hay,  stubble,"  instead  of  the  "gold,  silver,  and  precious 
stones"  of  true  worth  and  value — is  in  duty  bound  to  see  to  it  that 
lie  attentively  observe,  and  carefully  study,  the  nature  and  constitu- 
tion of  the  being,  whose  fabric  of  character  it  is  his  office  to  aid  in 
building  up.  The  educator  must,  in  a  word,  thoroughly  understand 
and  appreciate  the  elements  of  human  character.  These  must  be 
familiar  to  him  in  all  their  relations,  and  in  all  their  varied  work- 
ings, that  he  may  understand  more  fully  the  means  and  sources 
of  healthy  action  and  healthful  regimen,  which  it  is  his  duty  to 
prescribe. 

True  position  of  the  Teacher  as  a  Moral  Educator. — Even  to  the 
youngest  and  least  experienced  of  teachers,  who  wishes  to  acquit  him- 
self to  the  moral  obligations  under  which  he  is  professionally  laid, 
equally  to  his  pupils  and  himself,  we  would  earnestly  recommend  not 
the  practice  of  looking  into  some  text-book  of  moral  philosophy,  for 
his  own  guidance,  or  for  the  instruction  of  his  pupils,  but — in  the 
true  spirit  of  an  earnest,  faithful,  and  intelligent  instructor,  who  is 
aware  that  all  he  daily  does  or  omits  is  a  part  of  the  effectual,  living 
education  of  the  subjects  of  his  influence — the  careful  study  and 
watchful  observation  of  the  moral  indications  and  tendencies  of  his 
pupils,  as  intimating  their  capabilities  and  suggesting  his  measures 
and  resources.  It  is  his  part  to  carry  on,  in  successive  stages,  the 
sacred  offices  of  parental  love  and  wisdom,  daily  transferred  to  his 
charge,  to  be  fulfilled  in  the  sphere  of  the  schoolroonf,  according  to 
the  measure  of  his  judgment,  his  skill,  and  his  benignity.  But  the 
proper  home  influence,  though  so  often  missing,  is  the  true  ideal  of 
purpose,  plan,  and  work,  for  the  teacher  ;  and,  so  far  as  regards  moral 
results,  in  the  schoolroom  as  at  home,  the  appropriate  influence  must 
ever  be  that  of  an  authoritative,  affectionate,  living,  presence — not 
that  of  an  inanimate  book  or  a  deadening  routine. 

No  one  doubts  that,  to  become  a  skillful  cultivator  of  the  intel 


INTRODUCTORY  OBSERVATIONS.  159 

lectual  capabilities  of  his  pupils,  the  instructor  must  understand  the 
character  and  action  of  the  intellectual  faculties — not  merely  as  these 
exist  in  the  enumeration  of  particulars  in  a  text-book  of  mental  phi- 
losophy, but  as  they  actually  reveal  themselves  in  the  personal  action 
and  relations  of  the  living  pupil,  in  whatever  concerns  the  use  and 
exercise  of  his  mind.  The  teacher  must  take  the  position  not  of  a 
student  of  intellectual  philosophy,  ruminating  in  his  study,  but  of  a 
wakeful  observer  and  inquirer  into  the  phenomena  of  an  actual,  living 
specimen  of  the  human  mind,  whose  course  is  to  be,  in  part,  depend- 
ent on  the  fidelity  of  his  observation,  and  the  genial  character  of  his 
influence.  Our  previous  course  of  suggestions  on  the  cultivation  of 
the  intellectual  faculties,  it  will  be  recollected,  assumed  this  ground  as 
the  appropriate  and  peculiar  one  of  the  teacher,  and  the  only  one  on 
which  he  could  justly  be  regarded  as  doing  aright  his  professional 
work.  The  same  ground  we  would  claim  for  the  teacher,  when  sur- 
veying the  field  of  moral  culture. 

• 

ARRANGEMENT  OF  TOPICS. 

Recapitulation  of  Method. — The  plan  which  we  propose  to  adopt 
in  the  following  series  of  lectures,  will  still  be,  as  in  the  former  series, 
that  which  places  the  teacher  as  a  responsible  personal  observer  and 
reporter  on  phenomena  and  facts;  watching  and  aiding  the  progress 
of  human  development.  Our  survey  of  the  field  of  intellectual  culti- 
vation, as  founded  on  the  nature  and  constitution  of  the  human  being, 
presented,  (1.)  it  will  be  recollected,  a  given,  class  of  the  mental  powers 
and  faculties,  themselves,  as  subjects  of  examination;  (2.)  the  actuat- 
ing principle,  or  moving  spring,  of  these  powers;  (3.)  their  percepti- 
ble natural  tendency,  or  course  of  action  ;  (4.)  the  results  of  their  ac- 
tion ;  and,  (5.)  the  educational  processes  designed  for  their  appropriate 
development. 

Following  this  plan,  we  avoid  all  mere  theoretic  speculation,  and 
stand  on  the  sure  ground  of  observed  fact — the  only  point  of  view 
for  the  discovery  and  recognition  of  truth,  or  the  direction  and  guid- 
ance of  the  teacher.  We  thus,  moreover,  place  the  work  of  educa- 
tion in  the  teacher's  own  hands,  as  a  charge  devolving  on  him,  not 
merely  professionally,  but  personally,  and  laying  him  under  his  just 
responsibility,  as  an  agent  for  others,  and  as  one  intrusted,  in  the 
capacity  of  temporary  guardian,  with  the  dearest  of  all  human  inte- 
rests, and  the  best  of  all  hopes — hopes  extending  even  to  a  never- 
dying  life. 

I.     CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES. 
Unity  of  Man's  Moral  Constitution. — Adopting  the  above  method 
for  our  course  of  suggestions  on  moral  education,  we  should  proceed 


160  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

to  enumerate,  as  a  class,  the  most  prominent  of  the  peculiar  powers 
and  faculties  which  constitute  man  a  moral  being',  capable  of  moral 
influence,  instruction,  and  development.  But  as  every  moral  act 
involves  the  whole  man — not  merely  the  executive  organ  of  muscle 
or  nerve,  intellect,  heart  or  will,  but  all,  in  their  living  unity  and 
active  cooperation,  we  can  not,  as  when  examining  the  intellectual 
faculties,  select  any  class  or  group  of  powers  as  exclusively  constitu- 
ting the  moral  capabilities  of  the  human  being.  We  must  take  into 
view  his  whole  nature,  comprehending,  as  it  does,  the  vast  range  of 
his  physical,  intellectual,  emotional,  and  voluntary  attributes,  in  the 
personal  constitution  and  organization  .of  the  individual. 

1.  HEALTH  as  an  element  of  Moral  Life. — Man's  moral  condition, 
and  his  capability  of  moral  development,  depend,  in  no  slight  degree, 
on  that  intimate  connection  which  the  Creator  has  ordained  between 
soul   and   body.     As  a  necessary   condition    of  the   unity   of  man's 
complex  nature,  wholeness   of  being  is  essential  to  whole  and  true, 
that   is,  normal    action,  whether  of  body,  or    of  mind,  or    of  both. 
Physical    disorder,    by    its    reactionary    character,    disintegrates    its 
subject  as  a  moral   agent,  by  withdrawing  the   executive   organism 
from  cooperation  and  consentaneous  action,  in  subordination  whether 
to  the  dictates  of  reason  and  conscience,  the  solicitations  of  feeling, 
or  the  normal  activity  of  the  will.     Physical  suffering,  and  its  attend- 
ant involuntary  irritation,  are  sufficient  to  overcast  the  clear  healthy 
action  of   the   judgment,  to   stifle   the   monitions   of  conscience,    to 
change  the  natural  current  of  affection,  to  generate  angry  passion, 
and  propagate   moral  evil,  to  any  extent — from  the  petty  ebullitions 
of  peevish  temper,  to  the  outbreaks  of  the  fiercest  anger,  or  of  raving 
and  furious  insanity.     Health,  then,  the  educator  must  ever  be  careful 
to  enumerate  among  the  conditions  of  morality,  whether  the  healthy 
state  of  the  agent  be  owing  to  the  normal   sanity  of  mere    bodily 
condition,  or  to  that  health  of  the  higher  nature,  conscience,  which, 
in  man's  fallen  state,  must  so  often  be  invoked,  to  rule  the  turbulent 
and  rebellious  tendencies   of  a   morbid   physical    organization,  and 
which,  when  enlightened,  and  strengthened,  and   purified,  by  super- 
nal aid,  is  a  surer  reliance  than  the   happiest  condition  of  the  best 
normal  animal  life. — To   this   branch   of  our  subject  we   shall   have 
occasion  to  refer   more  distinctly,  under  other  heads,  in   the  discus- 
sion of  parental  and  educational  influences. 

2.  INTELLECT,  and  its  culture,  important  elements  of  Moral  Life. — 
The   vital  fact  of  man's   moral    unity  of  constitution,   involves    the 
condition  of  his  intellectual  nature,  as  sound  and  true,  or  otherwise. 
The  unhealthy  condition  of  the  bodily  organism,  is  sufficient  to  sub- 
vert, as  we  have  seen,  the  whole  moral  character  of  the  human  being, 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  JgJ 

in  seasons  of  excessive  morbid  reaction.  Sanity  and  vigor  of  mind, 
not  less  than  health  of  body,  and  conditions  of  moral  life  and  action; 
as  is  sadly  manifest  when  we  advert  to  those  unhappy  cases  in  which 
there  has  been  an  overthrow  or  obscuration  of  the  god-like  power 
of  reason  itself.  Insanity,  whether  in  the  form  of  mental  aberration 
or  delusion,  is  competent  not  only  to  impair,  but  to  obliterate,  the 
distinctive  mental  and  moral  attributes  of  man. 

The  enlightened  humanity  of  our  day  mitigates  by  genial,  and 
sometimes,  successful  treatment,  the  sufferings  of  our  nature,  when 
reduced  to  such  deplorable  conditions;  and  its  kind  offices  are 
crowned  with  yet  more  marked  success,  in  its  endeavors  to  raise  the 
idiotic  and  the  feeble  minded  to  a  comparatively  healthy  intellectual 
and  moral  level.  It  is  one  of  the  .highest  tributes  paid  to  moral 
culture — we  may  observe  in  passing — that  such  replacements  of 
depressed  human  nature  are  generally  recognized  as  owing  their 
success  to  the  purely  moral  measures  adopted  in  effecting  them, 
whether  in  cases  of  insanity  or  of  idiocy. 

Culture  essential  to  Intelligence,  and  therefore,  to  Moral  Elevation. — 
Gross  ignorance,  and  utter  absence  of  mental  culture,  are  proved  to 
be,  in  general,  fruitful  sources  of  crime,  and  of  moral  evil  in  every 
shape.  It  is  not  enough  that  a  sane  mind  and  sound  judgment  be 
taken  into  the  account,  as,  indispensable  elements  in  the  production 
of  legitimate  moral  results  in  action  and  character.  The  intellect 
beclouded  and  darkened  by  ignorance  and  its  attendant  hosts  of 
error  and  prejudice,  or  benumbed  by  neglect  and  disuse,  is  incapable 
of  the  clearness  and  activity  which  belong  to  the  normal  states  and 
conditions  of  the  human  mind.  A  pure,  intelligent,  and  loyal 
adherence  to  principle  and  to  conscience,  can  not,  in  such  circum- 
stances, be  expected  to  exist.  The  character  indicated  in  sacred 
scripture,  "  a  brutish  man"  who  "doth  not  know,"  may  not  have  chosen 
his  condition ;  but,  while  in  it,  he  is  disqualified  for  every  proper 
exercise  of  man's  reflective  and  moral  nature.  The  density  of  igno- 
rance to  which  some  classes  of  the  population  of  European  cities, 
and  the  majority  of  the  slave  population  of  our  own  country,  are 
sunk,  shows,  in  its  deplorable  depression,  and  its  nearly  hopeless 
extinction  or  absence  of  conscience,  how  important  the  daylight  of 
knowledge  is  to  a  pure  atmosphere  in  the  human  soul. 

Evils  of  excessive  Cultivation. — Morality  necessarily  implies  a 
certain  degree  of  intelligence  and  of  culture.  But,  unhappily,  there 
is,  as  is  too  plainly  apparent  in  the  forms  of  civilized  and  city  life, 
a  condition  in  which  a  moral  inefficiency  of  mind  is  attributable  not 
to  the  absence,  but  to  the  injudicious  excess  of  cultivation;  and  the 
pale  and  emaciated  features  of  school  children  and  students,  too 

11 


162  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

generally  indicate  the  incompatibility  of  sedentary  life  and  close, 
studious  application,  daily  sustained,  with  a  natural,  healthy  condi- 
tion of  body.  The  parental  complaints  against  schools,  as  under- 
mining the  temper  and  vivacity  of  childhood,  confirm  the  truth  that 
the  "much  study"  which  "is  a  weariness  of  the  flesh,"  impairs,  also, 
the  healthy  vigor  and  freshness  of  the  spirit. 

Genial  influence  of  appropriate  early  Culture. — Were  early 
education  what  it  should  be,  a  course  of  invigorating,  life-giving 
observation  of  nature  and  its  products,  and  a  succession  of  healthful, 
inspiring  exercises,  alternating  with  soothing  relaxation  and  cheering 
recreation,  and  a  strictly  limited  and  very  moderate  exercise  of 
pure  intellection ;  culture  and  intelligence  would  cease  to  be,  as  now, 
too  often  purchased  at  the  expense  of  a  healthy  tone  of  mind  and 
habit.  But,  as  we  must  recur  to  this  branch  of  our  subject  when  we 
come  to  the  discussion  of  educational  methods,  we  must  leave  it,  for 
the  present,  with  this  postulate,  that  a  sound,  clear,  vigorous,  and 
well  trained  understanding,  capable  of  correct  and  decisive  judgments, 
is  as  important  as  the  possession  of  reason  itself,  to  constitute  man 
a  responsible,  moral  agent.  In  other  words,  that  his  rational  faculty 
is  a  moral  power. 

3.  ^ESTHETIC  CULTURE  :  its  Moral  Influence  on  Imagination  and 
Taste. — Among  the  intellectual  sources  of  moral  life  and  power,  a 
prominent  place  must  ever  be  assigned  by  the  judicious  educator 
to  the  moulding  and  directing  efficacy  of  imagination  and  taste.  If 
the.se  influential  faculties  are  untrue  or  impure  in  their  action  and 
character,  the  tendency  of  the  whole  moral  being  is  "only  evil,  and 
that  continually."  If  they  are  sound,  healthy,  pure,  and  vigorous, 
they  become  sure  safeguards,  faithful  guides,  and  genial  companions 
of  the  youthful  spirit.  They,  also,  rise  to  the  rank  of  powers  in  the 
moral  domain  of  humanity. 

•  Moral  influence  of  the  impressions  of  Sublimity  and  Beauty. — In 
that  commingling  of  intuition,  feeling,  and  imagination,  and,  some- 
times, even  of  reflective  judgment,  by  which  the  soul  is  at  once 
overawed,  and  delighted,  and  exalted,  in  the  contemplation  of  the 
vast,  the  sublime,  the  majestic  in  nature  or  in  thought,  or  in  that 
only  less  elevating  influence  which  is  inspired  by  the  blending  effects 
of  greatness  and  grace  in  the  grandeur  of  nature  or  of  noble  art,  or 
even  in  that  delighted  and  admiring  love  which  is  elicited  by  the 
presence  of  beauty  in  the  myriad  forms  and  hues  with  which  the 
Creator  has  invested  the  living  and  ever-varying  aspects  of  nature, 
which  man  delights  to  imitate  in  art; — in  all  these  relations  of  mind 
is  involved  a  moral  element  of  power,  by  which  man's  nature  is 
ennobled  and  purified,  a»4  <prejwed,  #s  Jn  the  vestibule  of  a  sanctu- 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE   MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  163 

ary,  for  those  yet  higher  and  more  effective  influences  which  lift  awe 
into  adoration,  and  attract  the  soul  to  the  beauty  of  holiness.  Such 
at  least,  we  know,  is  the  natural  tendency  of  unperverted  mind,  and 
the  experience  of  every  soul  on  which  the  true  Light  shineth. 

The  mind  which,  under  the  purifying  influence  of  genial  culture, 
enjoys  the  refining  emotions  and  clear  perceptions  of  a  true  "taste," 
(relish,)  for  those  pursuits  which  lead  to  the  admiring  contemplation 
of  nature,  and  to  the  practice  of  those  arts  which  enable  man  to 
express  his  admiration  of  nature — possesses,  in  its  love  of  the  beauti- 
ful, a  natural  preparation  for  the  reception  of  all  those  salutary 
impressions  which,  in  a  higher  relation,  are  stamped  upon  the  heart 
by  the  irresistible  power  of  every  trait ^of  loveliness  of  disposition  and 
character  embodied  in  the  daily  beauty  of  a  pure  and  amiable  life. 

The  Graphic  Arts  which  embody  and  repeat  and  perpetuate  such 
impressions,  are  not  to  be  overlooked  in  an  enumeration  of  man's  capa- 
bilities of  refining  and  elevating  culture,  even  in  its  strictly  moral  and 
spiritual  relation.  The  dumb  statue,  by  its  perfect  symmetry  and 
grace,  or  its  touching  beauty,  makes  the  heart  eloquent  inwardly  with 
delight  and  love,  with  admiration,  or  with  tenderness  and  sympathy. 
The  portrait  which  recalls  the  image  of  the  lost  and  lovely,  the  good 
and  the  true,  the  noble  and  the  worthy,  speaks  most  touchingly  to 
us,  from  the  spirit  of  the  departed,  in  the  language  of  the  heart. 
The  landscape  which  skillful  art  presents  as  a  microcosm  of  glorious 
nature,  conjured  from  dead,  material  means  and  implements,  by  a 
concentration  of  man's  inventive  genius  and  educated  hand,  deepens, 
at  once,  our  love  of  this  our  earthly  home  of  palatial  grandeur  and 
finished  beauty,  benignantly  assigned  us  by  the  great  Father,  for  out 
preparatory  abode,  and  our  admiration  of  the  powers  with  which  He 
has  endowed  the  beings  created  in  his  image.  The  art  which  at 
once  refines  and  elevates,  does  a  noble  preparatory  work  in  rendering 
more  vividly  susceptible  those  faculties  by  which  the  soul,  when 
awakened  to  the  consciousness  of  its  highest  relations,  is  yet  more 
effectually  purified  and  ennobled. 

But  Music — that  art  which  God  has  been  pleased  to  consecrate 
for  His  own  special  service  in  the  offices  of  human  devotion,  and 
which  may  be  employed  in  the  humble  station  of  a  peculiar  minister 
to  man's  enjoyment,  as  a  sentient  being,  capable  of  ever  new  and 
ever  pure  gratification  from  the  concord  of  sweet  sounds,  is,  in  its 
influence  on  the  soul,  an  element  of  singular  moral  efficacy,  in  its 
power  to  inspire  with  reverence,  with  joy,  with  ecstatic  delight,  to 
calm  and  soothe  the  agitated  spirit,  to  touch  the  heart  with  sympathy 
for  sorrow,  or  to  mingle  the  humanizing  emotions  of  brotherhood  and 
companionship.  Rightly  cultivated  and  rightly  practiced,  it  affects 


164  MORAL    EDUCATION. 

with  a  pure  and  benign  influence  both  mind  and  heart;  and  happily, 
of  late  years,  has  it  taken  its  appropriate  place  in  schools,  among  the 
effective  means  of  moral  culture  not  less  than  aesthetic. 

It  is  no  undue  enlargement  in  the  enumeration  of  the  moral 
capabilities  of  humanity,  to  include  within  its  sphere  the  whole  range 
of  those  arts  by  which  man's  conceptions  of  grandeur  and  beauty  are 
rendered  more  definite  in  themselves,  and  more  effective  in  their  in- 
fluence on  his  character. 

4.  SENSIBILITY,  as  an  element  of  Moral  Life. — In  our  preceding 
observations,  we  have  adverted  to  health  of  body  and  mind,  and  to 
intellectual  and  aesthetic  culture,  as  determining,  in  degree,  man's 
moral  capabilities ;  since  a  normal  physical  and  intellectual  state  is 
the   natural  condition  of  normal  moral  action.     Proceeding  to  the 
further  consideration  of  the  moral  capacities  and  powers,  the  next 
element  in  our  enumeration  will  be  that  Sensibility  which,  by  Crea- 
tive ordination,  links  man,  by  the  sense  of  pleasure  and  pain,  to  the 
outward  world,  establishes  a  sentient  world  within  himself,  and  gives 
birth  to  the  vital  elements  of  love  and  aversion,  in  all  the  varied  forms 
of  appetite,  instinct,  desire,  feeling,  affection,  passion,  and  emotion,  by 
which  man  is  attracted  or  repelled,  by  which  he  is  prompted  to  action 
and   expression,   and   which    consequently   determine  his   morality, 
(manner  of  action.) 

5.  THE  INSTINCTIVE  TENDENCIES,  as  Moral  Incitements. — (1.)  Ap- 
petite, the  natural  primal  craving  for  satisfaction,  which  implies  a  sense 
of  want  and  a  desire  of  gratification,  more  or  less  definite  according 
to  the  degree  of  intellectual  development  and  definite  consciousness, 
secures,  by  Divine  appointment,  the  perpetual  renovation   of  vigor, 
health,  and  life,  of  comfort  and  complacency.     In  the  natural  sym- 
pathy of  mind  and  body,  it  tends,  also,  to  generate  the  genial  dis- 
positions and  emotions,  and  to  diffuse  the  moral  element  of  happiness. 
The  intelligent  educator  recognizes  it  as  a  moral  power,  in  its  influence 
on  habit  and  character.     He  well  knows  that,  in  its  pure  and  healthy 
conditions,  it  is  an  effective  promoter  of  serenity  and  tranquillity  and 
cheerfulness,  and  favors  the  exercise  of  the  benevolent  affections;  that, 
when  neglected,  it  brings  on  an  irritative  reaction,  too  strong,  if  ex- 
treme, for  the  control  of  the  guardian  power  of  conscience;  and  that, 
when  glutted  by  excess,  it  irnbrutes  the  whole  being,  and  leads  to 
those  degrading  habits  by  which  humanity  is  desecrated  or  ruined. 

(2.)  The  natural  Love  of  Activity. — One  of  the  earliest  manifesta- 
tions of  instinct  is  the  restless  desire  of  action,  which  is  seen  even  in 
the  involuntary  and  spontaneous  motions  of  the  muscular  frame  in 
infancy,  in  the  insatiable  thirst  for  exercise  in  childhood,  in  the  irre- 
pressible tendency  of  boyhood  and  youth  to  active  exertion,  in  the 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  jgtj 

indefatigable  industry  of  adult  man ;  and  not  less  in  the  instinctive 
craving  for  intellectual  action,  and  the  inextinguishable  curiosity  of 
the  young  mind,  in  the  eager  appetite  for  knowledge  on  all  accessible 
subjects,  and  the  earnest  desire  to  investigate  the  problems  of  our 
being  and  destination,  which  impel  the  maturer  mind,  at  every  stage 
of  life.  The  same  desire  of  activity  is  marked  in  the  child's  natural 
craving  for  sympathy  and  affection,  and  in  that  desire  for  esteem  and 
approbation  which  mark  the  dispositions  of  youth  and  manhood. 
All  these  impelling  powers,  as  they  tend  to  enlarge  the  sphere  of  life 
to  the  individual,  and  prompt  him  to  fill  it  by  corresponding  exertion, 
become  vital  elements  of  moral  life  and  character. 

(3.)  The  natural  Aversion  to  Pain. — This  instinctive  principle, 
which  makes  the  sentient  nature  a  provisional  guardian  of  the  safety 
and  welfare  of  infancy,  and,  in  degree,  of  humanity,  throughout  the 
course  of  life,  operates,  at  first,  with  more  obvious  reference  to  the 
protection  of  organic  life  and  health.  But,  as  the  mental  powers 
progressively  unfold  themselves,  and  conscious  sympathy  becomes  a 
source  of  pleasure  or  of  pain,  the  instinct  becomes  a  moral  sentiment, 
and  leads  its  subject  to  avoid  whatever  seems  fitted  to  excite  painful 
or  disagreeable  emotions  in  the  consciousness  of  his  fellow  beings.  It 
advances  as  self  consciousness  becomes  more  fully  developed,  to  that 
moral  rank  which  places  it  in  alliance  with  conscience,  and  warns  us 
to  shun  the  foreseen  pain  of  evil  doing,  and  the  reproaches  of  that 
faithful  monitor  which  Divine  wisdom  has  implanted  in  the  bosom  of 
man  to  represent  its  own  jurisdiction.  It  rises,  at  length,  to  that  fear 
of  God  which  deters  from  sin,  under  the  dread  of  His  sovereignty  or 
the  apprehension  of  his  displeasure,  and  which,  in  its  truest  and  most 
genial  form  of  filial  awe,  forbids  the  very  thought  of  offense.  The 
power  of  this  instinct  is  most  impressively  shown  when,  as  in  some 
deplorable  instances,  its  first  monitory  warnings  have  been  disregarded, 
and  its  terrific  reaction  drives  reason  from  the  throne  of  intellect,  or 
haunts  a  death -bed  with  horrors. 

(4.)  The  desire  of  Enjoyment — which,  in  infancy  and  childhood, 
tends  to  seek  for  gratification  in  the  sphere  of  the  sentient  nature  in 
its  animal  relations,  rises  to  intellectual  and  moral  action,  with  pro- 
gressive development,  in  subsequent  stages 'of  life  and  character,  till  it 
becomes  the  conscious  pursuit  of  even  the  highest  happiness  of 
humanity,  exalts  successively  the  aims  and  endeavors  of  man  to  his 
utmost  elevation  of  moral  action  and  character,  and  stamps  itself  as 
one  of  the  most  powerful  agents  in  the  advancement  of  his  being. 

(5.)  The  desire  of  Power. — No  attribute  of  his  nature  more  dis- 
tinctly marks  the  character  of  man  as  a  progressive  being,  than  that 
love  of  power  which  actuates  the  very  infant  in  his  attempts  to  stand, 


160  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

to  walk,  to  speak,  to  put  forth  efforts  of  muscular  force.  The  child, 
the  boy,  and  the  youth,  all  evince  the  activity  of  this  principle,  in  the 
conscious  ambition  for  progress  and  advancement  by  which  they  are 
impelled  to  earnest  endeavor  and  arduous  exertion,  physical,  intel- 
lectual, and  moral.  The  sense  of  power  is,  in  every  stage  of  human 
l.fe,  one  of  the  strongest  feelings  of  pleasure  of  which  man  is  conscious. 
In  the  maturity  of  his  powers,  it  crowns  his  endeavors  to  explore  the 
worlds  of  nature  and  of  thought,  to  achieve  the  miracles  of  perfect 
art,  to  attain  to  positions  of  affluence  or  of  rank,  to  enjoy,  in  what- 
ever form,  the  splendor  of  greatness.  It  prompts  man,  at  every  stage 
of  his  being,  from  childhood  onward,  to  aim  at  the  relative  manifesta- 
•  tion  of  power  which  is  exhibited  in  superiority  over  others,  in  the 
ability  to  control,  direct,  and  sway  the  minds  and  actions  of  his  fellow- 
men.  This  instinct  of  his  nature  becomes  an  element  of  immense 
productive  force  for  evil,  when  perverted ;  although,  when  prompted 
by  benevolence,  and  restrained  by  justice  and  rectitude,  it  has  occa- 
sionally made  men  the  benefactors  of  their  race. 

(6.)  The  desire  of  Estimation. — This  principle  which,  in  childhood, 
is  manifested  in  the  desire  of  love  and  approbation,  becomes,  in  the 
adult,  a  love  of  esteem  and  respect,  and,  so  far,  is  unquestionably  a 
worthy  motive  power,  and  one  which,  subordinated  to  conscientious 
integrity  and  honor,  elevates  the  character  and  prompts  to  benevolent 
action.  When  it  degenerates  to  mere  love  of  fame  and  applause,  or 
sinks  to  the  miserable  desire  for  distinction  or  mere  notoriety,  its 
effects  are,  of  course,  as  degrading  as  in  its  purer  forms,  it  is  ennobling. 
In  any  form,  it  is  an  ejement  of  peculiar  power  in  man's  moral 
constitution. 

(7.)  The  desire  of  Society. — This  principle  man  partakes  with  the 
gregarious  races  of  animal  life.  It  manifests  itself  in  the  clinging 
desire  for  sympathy  and  association,  characteristic  alike  of  infancy, 
childhood,  and  youth.  It  becomes,  in  manhood,  the  foundation  of 
social  and  civil  life,  widens  the  sphere  of  the  individual,  and  amplifies 
his  being  by  the  sympathy,  the  intelligence,  the  material  and  moral 
aid  of  a  whole  community  of  his  fellow  men.  As  an  element  of 
human  progress  and  power,  it  ranks  among  the  strongest  and  the 
most  ample  of  man's  moral  resources. 

(8.)  The  desire  of  Freedom. — In  the  stages  of  infancy  and  child- 
hood, and  of  immature  life  generally,  the  instinctive  desire  to  throw 
off  restraint,  and  to  enjoy  liberty  of  action,  is  the  natural  expression 
of  that  native  desire  of  development  which  impels  the  progressive 
human  being  in  every  direction  that  promises  the  pleasure  of  con- 
scious effort  and  power.  Partaking,  however,  of  the  partial  blindness 
attributable  to  all  forms  of  mere  instinct,  it  needs  the  direction  and 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE   MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  Itf 

guidance  of  faculties  higher  than  itself,  to  constitute  it  a  uniformly 
safe  element  in  activity.  But  as  it  is  capable  of  employment  in  the 
service  of  man's  best  rights  and  interests,  and,  in  that  capacity,  has 
achieved  some  of  his  noblest  triumphs  for  intelligence,  virtue,  and 
happiness,  it  takes  justly  a  high  rank  among  his  moral  capabilities, 
as  an  indispensable  condition  of  development  and  progress. 

6.  THE  PRIMARY  EMOTIONS,  as  Moral  Powers. — Sensibility,  the 
susceptibility  of  feeling,  the  great  source  of  moral  life,  presents  its 
numerous  family  of  emotions  as  constituent  members  of  the  group  of 
moral  powers  and  faculties  by  which  man  is  rendered  capable  of 
meliorating  culture  and  spiritual  growth.  Emotion,  as  the  manifesta- 
tion or  expression  of  feeling  and  affection,  is  not  merely  the  natural 
language  of  the  heart,  rendered  visible  or  audible,  but  in  virtue  of 
the  law  of  sympathy  and  mutual  incitement,  existing  in  the  various 
faculties  of  the  soul,  it  is  itself  a  vital  moral  element  reacting  with  a 
powerful  augmenting  force  on  the  source  whence  it  springs.  As  an 
inner  movement  of  the  soul  rendered  legible,  it  has,  in  many  cases, 
become,  by  universal  consent  and  usage,  a  synonym  for  the  interior 
condition  whence  it  originates,  whether  in  the  quiet  moods  of  serenity 
or  the  turbulence  of  passion. 

(1.)  Joy. — One  of  the  earliest  feelings  manifested  by  look  and  ac- 
tion, in  the  infant  stage  of  life,  is  that  joyous  emotion  which  con- 
stitutes, so  largely,  the  happiness  of  animal  existence,  in  all  its  earlier 
conditions.  The  genial  nature  of  this  emotion  is  indicated  in  the  in- 
tense gratification  which  it  evidently  yields  to  its  immediate  subject, 
and  which,  by  the  law  of  sympathy,  it  diffuses  to  all  sentient  natures 
within  its  sphere.  From  its  lowest  forms  of  serene  complacency,  to  its 
more  positively  marked  degrees  of  animation  and  cheerfulness,  its 
higher  expressions  of  delight,  of  gladness,  and  hilarity,  or  its  more 
sedate  and  lasting  satisfactions,  in  the  mature  sense  of  happiness 
which  attends  true  enjoyment,  its  influence  on  life  and  health,  on  con- 
scious feeling,  on  temper  and  disposition,  on  the  whole  intellectual 
and  moral  nature,  is,  in  the  highest  degree,  salutary ;  while  undue 
devotion  to  its  influence  precludes  the  possibility  of  benefit  from  those 
deeper  and  more  lasting  pleasures  which  flow  from  serious  thought 
and  earnest  purposes.  Mirth,  habitually  indulged,  leads  to  habitual 
levity  and  frivolity,  and  foregoes  the  distinctive  dignity  of  man.  The 
healthy  and  genial  inspiration  of  joy,  however,  even  intelligent  educa- 
tors are  sometimes  prone  to  forget,  is,  in  all  the  relations  of  moral 
condition  and  moral  cultivation,  one  of  the  strongest  influences  to 
which  the  young  mind,  by  the  law  of  its  constitution,  is  peculiarly 
subjected  as  a  vital  element — the  oxygen,  of  its  spiritual  atmosphere. 

(2.)   Sorrow,  grief,  regret,  repentance,   remorse. — These   emotions, 


16$  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

diametrically  opposed,  in  all  their  effects,  to  the  genial  influence  of 
the  preceding,  are  to  be  eschewed  as  permanent  educational  elements 
in  any  normal  plan  of  early  training;  yet  they  have  their  salutary 
office  in  abnormal  instances,  in  softening  obdurate  hearts,  and  sub- 
duing obstinate  wills,  or  in  awakening  torpid  and  dormant  intellects. 
Their  office,  in  the  business  of  education,  is  that  of  exceptional  reme- 
dies for  exceptional  evils :  they  are  punitive  and  reformatory  in  their 
character,  rather  than  genial  and  preventive.  They  belong  not  to  the 
primary  stage  of  nurture,  but  rather  to  the  secondary  one  of  discipline. 
Still  they  are  sometimes  of  the  greatest  value,  when  they  spring  from 
ingenuous  feelings  of  regret  for  conscious  error,  or  self-reprehension 
for  conscious  faults.  It  was  once  most  happily  said,  "The  tear  of 
contrition  serves  to  wash  the  mote  of  sin  out  of  the  eye."  The  hour 
of  grief  is  that  which  enhances  the  value  of  consolation.  The 
blameless  sadness  of  the  young  heart  calls  for  the  gentle  soothing  of 
the  voice  of  affection.  Sorrow  for  deplorable  losses  blesses  the  voice 
which  can  say,  in  genuine  sympathy  and  cheering  kindness,  "  Let  not 
your  heart  be  troubled!"  The  moment  of  "the  heaviness  of  the 
countenance"  is  sometimes  that  in  which  "  the  heart  is  made  better/' 
by  detaching  it  from  the  burden  of  conscious  evil,  and  preparing  the 
will  for  the  better  course  of  a  new  life.  In  such  circumstances,  the 
judicious  aid  of  the  attentive  educator  may  assist  in  the  inauguration 
of  a  new  moral  era  in  the  personal  history  of  the  pupil.  Even  the 
rougher  and  severer  discipline  of  repentance  and  remorse  becomes,  to 
the  hardened  adult,  a  minister  of  mercy,  when  it  wrenches  the  sinner 
from  the  thraldom  of  evil  habit,  and  sets  him  free  from  the  "bond- 
age  of  iniquity." 

The  moral  power  of  this  whole  class  of  emotions — from  the 
unaccountable  cloud  of  depression  which  sometimes  steals  over  the 
sunshine  of  the  young  heart,  to  the  deepest  plunge  into  the  darkness 
of  remorse — is  peculiarly  marked  for  its  efficacy  in  the  renovation  of 
feeling,  and  even  of  disposition  and  character.  In  the  sphere  of  the 
family  and  the  school,  it  sometimes  marks  the  record  of  the  day's  history 
with  the  beginning  of  a  salutary  reformation  of  temper  and  deport- 
ment. But,  in  the  imperfections  of  human  management,  it  some- 
times is  permitted  to  mark  the  commencement  of  a  reactive  sense  of 
wrong,  when  the  feeling  is  unjustly  caused  by  arbitrary  or  erring 
authority.  It  then  becomes  a  power  for  lasting  evil. 

(3.)  Timidity,  fear,  terror. — Like  the  natural  aversion  to  pain, 
these  instinctive  emotions,  which  are  so  easily  excited  in  childhood, 
bespeak  the  guardian  care  of  the  Creator,  in  his  gracious  provision 
against  danger,  and  consequent  destruction  to  the  organic  frame,  or 
to  the  mental  constitution.  They  are  the  swift  preventives  of  evil, 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  jgg 

the  safeguards  of  humanity  in  peril.  But  the  vividness  of  child- 
hood's emotions  needs  the  aid  of  the  guardian  auspices  of  education 
to  prevent  a  salutary  instinct  from  degenerating  into  unreasoning 
excess,  and  to  protect  the  mental  and  moral  nature  from  the  para- 
lyzing etfect,  which,  in  unhappy  instances,  has  extended  to  the  over- 
throw of  reason  itself.  The  timidity  of  childhood  may,  if  not 
watched  over,  become  habitual  self-distrust,  embarrassment,  confusion 
of  thought,  or  even  moral  cowardice.  Wisely  guarded,  it  may  be 
converted  into  a  protection  from  rashness,  presumption,  and  fool- 
hardiness.  Fear  may  be  sometimes  needed  as  a  restraining  influence 
on  forwardness  and  impudence,  or  as  a  check  upon  daring  hardihood, 
in  resistance  to  authority.  But  its  influence  is  unfriendly  to  the 
healthy  development  of  disposition  and  character.  It  never  rises  to 
the  dignity  of  an  aid  to  the  development  of  principle.  It  may  aid  in 
producing  a  vivid  apprehension  of  coercive  and  compulsory  measures, 
and  so  lead  to  obviate  their  necessity.  But  its  low  rank  among 
instincts,  its  semi-brutal  character,  at  best,  place  it  among  the  motives 
which  a  generous  educator  would  ever  despise.  If  called  in,  for  a 
moment,  to  quell  resistance  to  authority,  it  yet  can  never  attain  to 
the  dignity  of  a  genuine  moral  influence.  Expediency  may  some- 
times sanction  the  appeal  to  its  effect,  as  a  matter  of  necessity.  But, 
if  admitted  at  all  into  the  circle  of  moral  relations,  it  can  not  be 
ranked  higher  than  among  the  abnormal.  As  for  its  extreme  form, 
terror — humanity,  at  the  present  day,  forbids  any  resort  to  it,  as  a 
moral  expedient.  The  peril  of  insanity  lies  too  close  at  hand  to 
permit  any  human  being  to  adopt  it,  even  as  a  means  of  deterring 
from  evil.  Its  only  salutary  use  is  its  instinctive  office  to  prompt  the 
instant  flight  from  peril  to  life  itself.  So,  and  so  only,  does  it  prove 
a  benefit. 

(4.)  Indignation  as  a  moral  sentiment. — The  intelligent  moral 
instructor  will,  of  course,  carefully  guard  his  pupils  from  confound- 
ing this  principle  with  the  mere  animal  emotion  or  passion  of  anger. 
Anger  is  the  mere  personal  reaction  of  maddened  feeling  and  blinded 
reason,  which  man  is  capable  of  in  common  with  the  brutes,  and 
which  vents  itself  in  violence  on  the  agent  of  injury.  Indigna- 
tion is  that  impersonal  sentiment  which  regards  not  the  agent  but 
the  act,  which  makes  the  young  heart  glow  at  the  sense  of  wrong, 
when  the  teacher  is  relating  an  instance  of  oppression  or  cruelty, 
which  occurred,  perhaps,  ages  ago,  and  in  some  distant  land.  This 
species  of  resentment  is  a  purely  mental  thing,  a  salutary  and  enno- 
bling emotion  of  reactive  sympathy,  which  belongs  to  man  as  a 
being  consciously  endowed  with  free  agency,  and  equally  abhorring  a 
condition  of  unjust  subjection,  and  the  oppression  which  causes  it — 


170  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

as  a  being  instinctively  impelled  to  oppose  and  overthrow  every 
palpable  form  of  evil  which  besets  the  condition  of  humanity.  In- 
dignation has  inspired  many  of  those  peaceful  revolutions  which 
have  renovated  the  social  and  moral  condition  of  communities, 
more  frequently  than  it  has  originated  those  bloody  revolutions 
which  have  sometimes  been  the  birth-throes  of  national  life  and 
liberty. 

(5.)  Wonder. — Among  the  first  indications  of  mental  life,  in 
childhood,  is  the  emotion  of  wonder,  which,  at  that  stage  of  human 
progress,  is  so  often  called  forth  by  the  novelties  of  observation  and 
experience.  The  freshness  of  feeling  which  it  indicates,  and  the 
manifest  delight  attending  it,  show  plainly  its  power  as  an  element 
of  mental  life  and  moral  activity.  This  emotion,  judiciously  evoked 
and  skillfully  cherished  by  the  watchful  educator,  becomes  not  only  a 
genial  arid  a  powerful  incentive  to  intellectual  exertion,  but  the  trib- 
ute of  the  young  heart  on  the  altar  of  the  yet  "  unknown  God," 
who  is  waiting  to  be,  in  due  season,  revealed  to  intelligent  faith.  The 
wonder  which  the  novelty  of  all  created  things  raises  in  the  dawning 
consciousness  of  childhood,  is  the  preparatory  stage  of  the  intelli- 
gence and  reverence  which  are  afterward  to  blend  in  the  soul,  as  it 
rises  to  the  recognition  of  the  Author  of  life  and  the  Giver  of  its  law 
of  duty. 

(6.)  Awe. — This  emotion  transcends  that  of  mere  wonder,  and 
thrills  the  soul  with  a  profounder  sense  of  power,  whether  exhibited 
in  the  tremendous  forces  of  nature,  in  its  astounding  aspects  of 
elemental  commotion,  as  in  the  heaving  fire  of  the  volcano,  the 
dashing  billows  of  ocean,  the  rush  of  the  cataract,  the  blinding  flash 
of  the  lightning,  the  roar  of  the  thunder,  or  the  fury  of  the  tornado, 
or  in  the  calmer  majesty  of  mountain  forms,  the  overwhelming  vast- 
ness  of  impenetrable  forests,  or  the  immeasurable  depths  of  space. 
As  a  moral  inspiration,  it  aids  the  feeble  faculties  of  man  in  his 
attempts  to  dwell  upon  the  conception  of  almighty  power  and  eter- 
nal duration;  and  while  he  must  ever  sink  consciously  baffled  in  all 
his  attempts  to  comprehend  Him  "  whose  greatness  is  unsearchable, 
and  whose  ways  are  past  finding  out,"  yet  he  never  feels  more  vividly 
the  greatness  of  his  own  nature,  limited  though  it  is,  than  when 
losing  his  human  littleness  in  the  contemplation  of  the  great  and 
marvellous  works  which  bespeak  the  majesty  of  Him  who  is  "  the 
same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever." 

This  overwhelming  and  yet  ennobling  emotion,  education  has  it 
for  one  of  its  special  offices  to  deepen  and  expand  by  all  the  aids 
which  nature  and  science  furnfsh  to  the  inquiring  mind  of  man.  Its 
influence  is  doubly  salutary,  as  it  prostrates  the  human  being  in 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  Ifl 

conscious  insignificence   before  his  Creator,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
exalts  Him  who  is  the  "  Majesty  of  heaven  and  earth." 

(7.)  Hope. — As  an  intelligent  inspiration,  of  intellect,  heart,  and 
will,  in  activity  connected  with  the  sense  of  duty,  hope,  the  expecta- 
tion of  success,  becomes  an  element  of  high  moral  value  and  power. 

It  is  congenial  with  the  conscious  happiness  of  being  which  natu- 
rally belongs  to  the  joyous  associations  of  early  childhood,  and, 
indeed,  of  young  life  in  all  its  various  stages.  It  inspires  and  sus- 
tains the  aspirations  of  boyhood  and  youth,  and  invigorates  the 
exertions  of  manhood.  It  is  a  silent  tribute  from  the  heart  of  man 
to  Divine  benignity;  and  when  elevated  and  hallowed  by  faith,  it 
rejoices  in  the  anticipation  of  a  future  life  of  perfect  felicity.  Its 
rank,  and  its  efficacy  as  a  moral  influence,  constitute  it  one  of  the 
highest  powers  by  which  man's  moral  nature  is  actuated. 

7.  THE  BENIGNANT  AFFECTIONS,  as  elements  of  moral  life  and 
power. — (1.)  Love. — By  the  great  pervading  attribute  of  sensibility, 
inherent  in  his  constitution,  man  learns  to  feel  his  condition  before  he 
knows  it,  and  to  sympathize  with  his  fellow-beings  before  he  is  capa- 
ble of  understanding  them.  The  law  of  Sympathy^  written  on  his 
whole  nature,  as  a  primary  element  of  his  being,  which  ultimately 
developed  into  every  form  of  social  and  benevolent  feeling,  brings 
him,  unconsciously,  at  first,  under  the  dominion  of  the  paramount 
law  of  Love,  which  attracts  him  toward  his  fellow-beings  by  a  genial 
and  kindly  influence  which  he  delights  to  feel,  and  which,  as  his  con- 
scious intelligence  gradually  unfolds  itself,  he  learns  to  understand  as 
mutual  and  reciprocal.  This  mysterious  power  ties  the  heart  of  the 
infant  to  that  of  the  mother,  and  that  of  the  mother  to  the  infant 
with  an  affection  stronger  than  life.  In  the  little  community  of  home, 
it  links  the  souls  of  brothers  and  sisters  in  fraternal  union  of  affection. 
It  is  the  sacred  law  of  parental  and  filial  duty,  and  moves  the  whole 
moral  machinery  of  human  life  in  its  hallowed  and  blessed  sphere  of 
privacy. 

There  virtue  has  its  purest  forms  and  dearest  aspects,  its  genuine, 
spontaneous  amenities  ;  and  though  unknown  beyond  its  own  quiet 
sphere,  has  its  own  unseen  record  of  generous  self-sacrifice,  and  of 
fortitude  more  than  heroic.  Among  the  noblest  motive  powers  of 
moral  action,  the  affections  of  home  are  those  to  which  the  enlightened 
educator  will  ever  assign  the  highest  place,  as  regards  the  capabilities 
of  the  human  heart  for  living  development. 

(2.)  Gratitude. — This  peculiar  benignant  reaction  of  love,  in  view 
of  favor  or  kindness  experienced,  mingles  largely  with  the  exercise  of 
filial  and  fraternal  affection,  and  enters  into  every  emotion  called  forth 
by  the  consciousness  of  benefit  conferred,  in  whatever  degree — from 


172    .  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

the  ordinary  acts  of  human  kindness  and  courtesy,  to  those  greater 
expressions  of  benevolence,  which  bestow  safety  or  comfort  and  hap- 
piness, in  valuable  and  lasting  forms  of  beneficent  action.  This  gen- 
erous emotion  is  not  always  accompanied  with  the  satisfaction  of  being 
able  to  remunerate  a  benefactor  by  any  adequate  return.  The  service 
or  the  favor  which  calls  it  forth,  is  sometimes  greater  than  language 
or  action,  or  any  form  of  external  expression,  can  equal.  It  may  be 
sometimes  so  great  as  to  prompt  the  devotion  of  a  whole  life  to  the 
friend  or  benefactor  toward  whom  it  is  directed.  Such  is  true  filial 
attachment.  Such  is  man's  position  toward  his  Creator. 

The  promptings  of  this  generous  emotion  lead,  sometimes,  to  the 
noblest  manifestations  of  true  sensibility  and  self- renouncing  devotion. 
Some  of  the  brightest  passages  on  the  page  of  history  are  those  which 
record  the  heroic  actions  to  which  this  feeling  has  given  birth. 

In  the  relations  of  education,  its  influence  on  the  ingenuous  mind 
and  heart  of  youth,  forms  one  of  the  most  sacred  attachments  of 
human  life.  A  grateful  feeling  of  returning  love  for  the  guardian 
mental  care  which,  in  our  early  years,  watched  over,  and  served  to 
form  and  mould  within  us,  the  ideal  image  of  excellence  at  which  we 
were  taught  to  aspire,  the  filial  reverence  which  the  heart,  in  such  cir- 
cumstances, so  gladly  pays  as  a  tribute  to  wisdom  and  worth,  insure  the 
inspiration  of  the  noblest  aims  in  all  subsequent  life,  to  the  heart  which 
is  conscious  of  them. 

8.  THE  GENEROUS  AFFECTIONS,  as  Moral  Powers. — (1.)  friend- 
ship.— The  cordialities  of  disinterested  friendship,  and  the  mutual 
good  offices  of  human  kindness  and  reciprocal  obligation  are  but  ex- 
pansions of  fraternal  feeling  from  the  primary  sphere  of  home;  and 
their  efficacy  in  promoting  human  well-being,  on  a  broad  scale,  render 
them  powerful  instruments  of  good,  as  well  as  rich  elements  of  moral 
life  in  the  heart. 

(2.)  Patriotism. — On  a  yet  wider  field,  patriotic  attachment  and 
principle,  as  they  cherish  the  generous  spirit  of  self-devotion,  give 
ample  scope  for  the  cultivation  of  the  virtues  which  adorn  and  dignify 
human  life.  The  noblest  pages  of  history  are  those  which  exhibit  the 
magnanimity  of  genuine  patriotism.  As  a  feeling  of  the  heart,  or  a 
principle  of  duty,  this  sentiment  possesses  peculiar  power  in  inspiring 
man  to  noble  deeds ;  and  as  a  spring  of  development  to  personal 
character,  it  must  ever  rank  high  among  the  moral  capabilities  of 
man. 

(3.)  Philanthropy. — The  expansive  feeling  which  embraces  the 
whole  human  family  in  the  wide  open  arms  of  brotherhood,  is  a  vir- 
tue yet  more  disinterested,  and  more  true  to  God  and  man,  than  even 
the  truest  and  the  warmest  patriotism.  It  is  eminently  the  Christian's 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  173 

virtue,  so  far  as  he  is  true  to  the  teachings  and  example  of  Him  who 
came  to  proclaim  "good  will  to  men,"  and  charged  his  followers  with 
a  message  of  love  to  "  the  whole  world."  The  history  of  genuine 
Christianity  is  chiefly  the  record  of  those  who  went  forth  on  this 
errand,  "with  their  life  in  their  hand,"  and  who  were  ever  cheerfully 
ready  to  deposit  it  in  pledge  of  their  devotion  to  the  well-being  of 
"  Barbarian,  Scythian,  bond,  or  free." 

Among  the  powers  which  characterize  man  as  a  moral  being  capa- 
ble of  culture,  and  of  advancement  in  the  scale  of  excellence,  no  trait 
of  disposition  gives  larger  promise  than  this ;  and  on  none  does 
humanizing  culture  produce  larger  effects. 

(4.)  Humanity  toward  Animal  Nature. — As  the  offspring  of  Divine 
love,  the  human  spirit,  though  its  lustre  has  been  dimmed  by  the 
breath  of  sin,  yet  retains  something  of  the  characteristic  benignity  of 
its  Source ;  and  the  range  of  its  benevolent  sympathy  is  not  limited 
to  the  circle  of  its  fellow  beings,  but  flows  forth,  if  not  unnaturally 
diverted  from  its  channel,  to  the  wider  sphere  of  universal  being.  In 
its  relation  even  to  the  humbler  races  of  the  creation,  which  have 
been  subjected  to  its  dominion,  by  the  appointed  gradations  in  the 
scale  of  life,  it  manifests  itself  capable  of  a  beneficence  for  which  the 
designation  of  "  humanity'1'1  has  been  suggestively  chosen. 

The  universal  law  of  Love,  if  obeyed,  expands  and  elevates  the 
soul  of  man  to  that  moral  comprehensiveness  of  being  which  ranks 
him  "  but  little  lower  than  the  angels ;"  and  while  he  is  thus  permitted 
to  see  "all  earthly  things  put  under  his  feet,"  his  crown  of  royalty  is 
indeed  one  of  "  glory  and  honor,"  because  it  invests  him  with  the 
conscious  responsibility  of  an  intelligent  and  moral  sovereign.  This 
true  majesty  of  man  is  the  source  at  once  of  his  just  self-respect,  and 
of  some  of  his  noblest  regal  attributes  and  virtues,  to  cherish  and 
confirm  which  is  among  the  special  offices  of  appropriate  human  cul- 
ture. 

9.  RELIGIOUS  PRINCIPLE,  as  a  Moral  Power. — (1.)  Reverence. — 
The  feeling  of  which  the  young  mind  is  conscious,  as  one  of  the  dawn- 
ing intimations  of  the  development  of  its  own  reflective  powers,  when 
contemplating  the  dignity,  the  authority,  the  wisdom,  and  the  benignity 
of  the  parental  character  on  which  it  consciously  depends  for  being 
and  happiness — is  although  not  yet  fully  or  distinctly  developed  to  its 
own  consciousness,  one  of  the  profoundest  emotions  of  which  it  is 
susceptible ;  and  to  the  unpgrverted  heart  it  is  one  of  the  strongest 
cords  of  sacred  obligation  by  which  it  is  bound  to  all  filial  duty. 

The  emotion  thus  experienced  is  naturally  transferred,  by  the 
mind's  law  of  association  to  all  forms  of  venerable  human  worth  and 
dignity.  It  is  called  forth  by  the  wisdom  of  age,  by  nobility  of  charac- 


174  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

ter  in  exalted  station,  and,  in  degree,  by  all  authority  justly  exercised. 
It  marks  alike,  in  such  circumstances,  the  deportment  of  ingenuous 
youth  and  of  true  manliness.  Its  indications  in  the  intercourse  of 
life  are  the  assurance  of  that  susceptibility  by  which  judicious  cultiva- 
tion, and  the  inspiration  of  a  genuine  faith,  are  enabled  to  lift  the 
human  soul  in  reverence  to  the  Father  of  spirits,  and  to  create  a 
sacred  regard  for  all  that  Divine  truth  reveals  as  duty.  Its  value  as 
an  element  in  moral  cultivation,  is  beyond  expression,  great,  as  re- 
gards its  influence,  whether  in  securing  the  respect  and  obedience  due 
to  parents  and  teachers,  to  seniority  in  years,  and  to  eminence  in  at- 
tainments, or  in  conferring  on  education  itself,  its  true  character  as  a 
sacred  relation  in  the  business  arid  duties  of  life,  and  as  a  connecting 
link  in  the  chain  which  gives  unity  to  man's  being  in  its  extension  to 
a  higher  sphere  of  mental  and  spiritual  existence. 

(2.)  Faith. — Another  element  of  the  highest  power  in  moral 
relations  is  the  Faith  which  believes  and  trusts,  and  thus  unites  man 
to  his  fellow  man,  and  man  to  the  Author  of  his  being.  A  great 
writer  has  denominated  this  principle  as  that  "  which  holds  the  mor- 
al elements  of  the  world  together."  Without  it,  man  is  an  isolated, 
helpless,  hopeless  outcast,  wandering  on  the  shores  of  being  without 
aim  and  without  direction,  ready  to  be  "swallowed  up  and  lost,"  at 
the  end  of  his  brief  career  of  earthly  life. 

Faith  is  the  source  and  spring  of  all  moral  life,  and,  as  a  capability 
in  the  relations  of  culture,  its  productive  power  is  comparatively 
inexhaustible,  or  limited  only  by  the  measure  of  endeavor.  It  lifts 
man  above  himself,  and  supplies  him  with  a  power  beyond  his  own. 
It  gives  the  parent  and  the  teacher  an  influence  nearly  unbounded. 
In  its  highest  form,  it  solves,  with  light  from  above,  the  great  Chris- 
tian paradox,  "  When  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong." 

(3.)  Conscience. — The  primordial  moral  element  which  holds 
sway  over  all  man's  powers  and  faculties,  is  Conscience.  This  great 
regulator  of  the  springs  of  action  no  competent  educator  can  ever 
permit  himself  to  regard  in  the  merely  popular  light  of  a  reporter 
and  penal  officer,  following  the  acts  of  which  it  takes  cognizance 
only  after  they  have  been  committed,  or  irretrievably  determined. 
As  the  sense  of  duty,  it  presides  over  the  whole  mental  being.  As 
an  intelligent  agent,  it  partakes  in  the  work  of  consciousness  and 
reason.  It  knows  and  judges.  It  remembers,  indeed,  with  fearful 
exactness,  the  deeds  of  the  past.  But.it  has  also  the  eyes  of  intui- 
tion and  of  inference  for  the  present,  and  the  power  of  prospection, 
prediction,  and  suggestion  for  the  future.  In  feeling — unless  blunted 
or  extinguished — it  is  sensitive,  to  the  utmost  degree  of  acuteness ; 
and  it  pierces  to  the  very  "joints  and  marrow"  of  the  moral  organ- 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  175 

ism.  Its  cautery  is  terrible  in  its  unsparing  intensity.  By  Creative 
ordination  it  is  paramount  to  the  will.  It  prompts,  and  threatens, 
nud  remonstrates,  and  commands,  and  forbids,  and  impels  or  deters, 
with  absolute  authority; — irresponsible  to  any  higher  power  within 
the  whole  domain  of  humanity,  and  acknowledging  none  without, 
but  the  one  supreme  authority  of  God  and  duty. 

As  an  intelligent  sentiment,  and  determining  principle,  it  sums  up 
man's  moral  capacities  and  powers  in  their  whole  extent  of  life  and 
action.  It  constitutes  him  what  he  is  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  in 
his  own  consciousness — a  responsible  moral  agent,  whose  motto,  writ- 
ten on  his  inmost  being,  is  " Be  perfect" 

Under  the  prompting  influence  of  conscience,  as  the  law  of  duty, 
appointed  by  the  supreme  lawgiver,  a  devout  regard  to  His  authority, 
and  a  grateful  sense  of  His  benignant  care,  the  young  mind,  enlight- 
ened by  the  teachings  of  "the  wisdom  which  cometh  from  above,"  is 
betimes  elevated  to  \\\&i  piety  toward  the  Father  of  all,  which  raises 
the  personal  worth  and  virtues  of  the  human  being,  in  his  aspira- 
tions, to  the  height  of  sanctity,  carries  up  all  questions  of  moral 
action  to  the  highest  of  all  tribunals,  and  breathes  into  all  his  en- 
deavors of  duty  the  inspiring  breath  of  a  spiritual  life  and  a  divine 
power.  Most  justly  did  the  fathers  of  New  England  require  of  the 
teacher  of  youth  that  he  should  regard  himself  as  specially  set 
apart  for  the  "nurturing"  of  childhood  in  "piety,"  as  the  security 
for  all  those  virtues  which  insure  the  safety  of  a  community  and  are 
the  adornment  of  humanity. 

10.  THE  WILL,  as  a  Moral  Power. — Man's  ability  to  determine 
the  moral  course  of  his  actions,  to  choose  the  right  and  avoid  the 
wrong,  can  never  be  made  clearer  to  himself  by  the  light  of  "science 
falsely  so  called,"  than  it  is  in  his  own  inmost  convictions.  It  never 
is  obscured  to  his  consciousness  till,  wandering  from  his  limited 
sphere  of  possible  conception,  he  bedims  it  by  some  cloud  of  meta- 
physical speculation,  and  perplexing  casuistry — "  darkening  counsel" 
by  "  skeptical  doubts"  and  "  words  without  knowledge."  Conscience, 
the  only  competent  court,  adjudges  him  free,  innocent  or  guilty,  com- 
mendable or  culpable,  in  every  act  within  the  limits  of  his  power, 
yet — for  that  very  reason,  not  independent  of  the  authority  which 
pronounces  sentence  on  his  actions,  and  which  involves  the  existence 
of  an  authority  higher  than  itself,  to  which  he  is  strictly  responsible, 
here  and  hereafter,  though  at  liberty  now  to  follow  the  bent  of  his 
individual  will.  To  the  doings  of  this  determining  and  executive 
power,  which  directs  and  moves  the  arm,  whether  it  is  stretched  forth 
to  succor  or  to  kill,  attaches,  then,  a  moral  character  of  fearful  power ; 
and  to  influence  it  for  good,  and  not  for  evil,  to  guide  it  in  the  path 


176  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

of  rectitude  and   benevolence,  is  the  appropriate  work  of  education, 
as  the  guardian  of  human  welfare. 

11.  THE  PRACTICAL  VIRTUES,  as  Moral  Powers. — High   among 
these  attributes  stands  Rectitude — that  power  of  self-adjustment  by 
which  man  corresponds  to  the  dictates  of  conscience,  as  the  sense  of 
right,  which  keeps  him  true  to  his  position  in  the  moral   universe — 
true  in  thought,  word,  and  deed,  to  the  posture  in  which  his  Creator 
placed  him  when  He  "made  man  upright."     This  principle  confers 
on  the  human  being  that  noble   power  of  self-poise,  which   bespeaks 
his  dignity,  as  a  free  agent,  endowed  with   the  ability,  to   maintain 
his   moral  identity  and  stability,  amid  all  the  fluctuations  of  circum- 
stance, or  the  plausible  solicitations  of  evil.     It  tends  to  render  him 
sacredly  regardful  of  truth  in  all  his  communications  with  his  fellow- 
beings,  and  of  equity  and  justice  in  all  his  transactions.     It  stamps 
his  character  with  integrity  and  honor,  in   every  station  of  power — 
with    fidelity,  honesty,  and  punctuality  in  the  discharge  of  every 
obligation  of  duty.     Truthfulness,  is,  in   a  word,  the  one  sure  and 
firm  foundation  of  every  personal  virtue,  and   the  only  ground  of 
reliance  between  man  and  man.     Without    the    security  which    it 
affords,  the  whole  fabric  of  human   society  would   be  but  a  hollow 
structure  of  falsehood  and  hypocrisy,  and  life  but  a  degrading  scene 
of  deceit,  imposition,  and  intrigue,  issuing  in   universal  corruption 
and  misery. 

A  sacred  regard  to  truth,  in  all  its  relations  of  communication, 
whether  in  expression  or  action,  while  it  is  an  element  so  indispensa- 
ble to  the  existence  of  human  virtue,  in  any  form,  is  one  which 
more  than  most  others,  is  a  growth  of  culture  in  the  soul,  and  pecu- 
liarly needs  the  genial  guardianship  of  watchful  care,  mature  wis- 
dom, and  consummate  skill,  on  the  part  of  the  cultivator.  The 
fertile  imagination  and  artistic  fancy  of  childhood,  are  prone  to 
create  a  world  of  unreality  around  the  unconscious  spirit,  in  its  im- 
maturity of  knowledge  and  experience ;  and  a  guiding  mind  is  ever 
needed  to  lead  it  onward  to  a  distinct  perception  of  the  sacred  beau- 
ty which  invests  the  simplicity  and  severity  of  truth,  and  which 
renders  any  conscious  violation  of  it  a  desecration.  The  force  of 
truthfulness,  as  a  moral  principle,  when  so  directed  and  matured,  is 
seen  in  that  loyal  and  devoted  adherence  to  its  dictates,  which  is 
exhibited  in  the  constancy  and  genuine  heroism  of  the  martyr.  In 
his  estimation,  it  is  held  dearer  than  life,  no  intensity  of  pain  or 
suffering  has  the  power  to  wrest  it  from  him. 

12.  THE  HUMANE  AND  GENTLE  VIRTUES,  as  Moral  Powers. — Un- 
der this  designation  may  be  properly  included  those  traits  of  disposi- 
tion and  character  which  soften  the  heart  of  man  to  his  fellow  man — 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  177 

the  sympathy  which  is  not  a  mere  passive  condition  of  feeling  or  or- 
ganic susceptibility,  but  a  living,  active  participation  in  the  emotions 
evinced  by  our  fellow  creatures;  leading  us  to  rejoice  in  the  happiness 
of  others,  to  compassionate  them  in  conditions  of  want  and  distress, 
to  commiserate  sorrow  and  suffering,  in  every  form — ignorance,  error, 
degradation,  vice,  and  every  pressure  of  evil  which  afflicts  or  depresses 
humanity ; — to  cherish  the  catholic  spirit  of  universal  charity,  toler- 
ance for  the  sentiments  which  differ  from  our  own,  uniform  tenderness 
toward  woman  and  childhood,  calmness  under  irritating  treatment, 
meekness  under  a  sense  of  wrong,  quietness  and  mildness  with  the 
violent,  patience  and  forbearance  with  waywardness  and  opposition 
and  injury,  pity  for  the  erring,  mercy  for  the  evil-doer.  All  these  god- 
like traits  of  disposition  are  the  features  which  characterize  the  pecu- 
liar spirit  of  true  Christian  culture ;  none  of  them  the  mere  fortuitous 
products  of  a  happy  constitution  of  body  or  of  mind,  but  all  earned 
by  ceaseless  watchfulness,  and  diligent  endeavor,  and.  sometimes,  by 
arduous  struggles,  and  none  of  them  perfected  without  aid  from  on 
high. 

13.  PERSONAL  QUALITIES,  in  their  Moral  Influence:  The  Self-as- 
serting and  Self-  sustaining  Virtues  of  the  Individual  Man. — ( 1 .)  Self- 
respect. — As  a  being  created  in  the  high  sphere  of  intelligent  and 
moral  existence,  and  possessed  of  an  immortal  nature,  man  enjoys,  in 
a  just  self-respect,  a  security  against  degradation  by  any  influence 
which  he  feels  to  be  unworthy  of  the  rank  assigned  him  in  the  uni- 
verse. Consciously  noble  in  origin  and  destination,  he  tends,  if  not 
perverted  or  degraded  by  habit,  to  noble  action ;  and  if,  in  the  pleni- 
tude of  Divine  favor,  he  is  consciously  recovered  from  a  fallen  condi- 
tion, he  feels  it  his  immunity,  as  "a  new  creature,"  to  have  been  liber- 
ated from  a  state  of  bondage — set  free  for  the  enjoyment  of  a  "  glori- 
ous liberty,"  and  impelled  to  run  a  new  and  noble  career.  Respect 
for  his  own  nature  and  personal  condition — when  kept  pure  from  the 
senseless  interminglings  of  pride,  or  haughtiness,  or  arrogance,  of 
overweening  self-esteem,  or  exclusive  self-regard — insures  to  man  the 
proper  dignity  of  his  being,  and  tends  to  elevate  all  his  aims  and  ac- 
tions. It  is  an  element  of  high  moral  power ;  and  the  judicious  culti- 
vation of  its  influence  is  a  prominent  duty  of  all  whose  office,  as 
educators,  constitutes  them  the  guardians  of  humanity. 

(2.)  Ambition. — Feeling  the  nobility  of  his  nature,  man,  when  not 
.hopelessly  degraded,  instinctively  seeks  to  act  in  harmony  with  his 
conscious  position,  and,  under  the  influence  of  ambition,  to  aspire  after 
advancement,  in  every  stage  and  relation  of  his  life.  This  desire  may, 
it  is  true,  be  suffered  to  center  on  merely  selfish  purposes — on  the  pef*- 
sonal  aggrandizement  of  an  individual,  to  the  exclusion  or  depression 

12 


178  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

of  others,  and  to  the  violation  of  their  rights.  In  such  cases,  it  sinks 
to  the  level  of  that  brutal  greed  which  prompts  one  of  the  inferior 
animals  to  usurp  the  better  place  at  the  trough,  and  monopolize  its 
advantages,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  weaker  members  of  the  herd. 

But  the  desire  of  advancement,  as  that  of  progress  and  attainment, 
is  utterly  free  from  all  considerations  of  relative  superiority  or  ad- 
vantage. It  is  obedience  to  an  ennobling  instinct,  pure  in  its  charac- 
ter, and  beneficial  in  its  results,  not  merely  to  the  individual  whom  it 
elevates,  but  to  all  whom  it  enables  him  to  aid  from  the  higher  sphere 
of  ability  to  which  he  has  been  raised.  To  the  student  it  is  a  most 
powerful  incitement  to  application  and  exertion;  and  in  the  relations 
of  moral  attainment,  its  influence  is  a  salutary  inspiration  of  the 
highest  order.  It  is  not  incompatible  with  the  purest  spirit  of  benevo- 
lence, in  the  largeness  of  the  plans  on  which  it  delights  to  work,  and 
the  inestimable  value  of  the  benefits  which  it  delights  to  bestow.  It 
urges  the  Christian  aspirant  to  "press  toward  the  mark,1'  " for  the 
prize  of  his  high  calling,"  and  incites  him  by  the  promise  of  a  "crown 
of  life." 

(3.)  Magnanimity. — Ambition  naturally  tends  to  generate  another 
personal  quality  of  noble  character  and  influence — that  magnanimity 
which  life  man  above  the  littleness  that  would  limit  the  scope  of  life, 
and  fritter  away  its  purposes  in  paltry  pursuits,  in  trivial  employments, 
or  low  gratifications,  in  snatching  at  mean  advantages,  or  mingling  in 
petty  strifes.  This  ennobling  virtue  incites  its  possessor  to  high  aims 
in  all  his  plans  and  purposes,  and  to  an  utter  disregard  of  meanness 
in  motive  or  action,  as  manifested  by  others  toward  himself.  It  over- 
looks malice  and  injury,  or  forgives  their  results.  It  disdains  revenge. 
It  is  a  sure  preventive  of  that  sordid  narrowness  of  soul  which  induces 
man  to  drudge,  throughout  life,  for  the  mere  purpose  of  accumulating 
health,  or  to  practice  the  degrading  shifts  of  a  niggardly  parsimony 
in  expenditure,  through  fear  of  diminishing  his  hoards.  A  magnan- 
imous spirit  scorns  the  selfish  littleness  which  thus  wraps  the  individ- 
ual in  himself,  and  shuts  the  door  of  his. heart  against  the  natural 
claims  of  human  brotherhood.  It  gives  a  generous  breadth  to  meas- 
ures of  usefulness  and  benevolence,  and  raises  human  activity  to  a 
higher  sphere  and  ampler  scope  in  all  directions. 

(4.)  Resolution. — This  attribute,  so  important  in  all  the  practical 
Delations  of  life,  implies  the  clearness  of  perception  and  readiness  of 
judgment  in  consequence  of  which  the  will  is  empowered  instantane- 
ously to  decide  die  course  of  action.  Hence  the  certainty  and  the 
swiftness  with  whic'h  execution  follows  purpose,  the  invaluable  habit 
£f  promptness  and  dispatch  in  business,  and  of  punctuality  and  effic- 
iency in  {&i&ttftAftae,  as  contrasted  with  the  lagging  irresolution,  and 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES. 

halting,  unavailing  endeavor,  which  invariably  issue  in  failure  and 
disappointment. 

The  power  of  energetic  and  decisive  resolve  determines,  at  once, 
the  practical  value  of  ari  individual,  and  the  reliance  which  may  be 
placed  on  him  by  others.  It  determines,  in  fact,  the  mental  health 
and  moral  life  of  the  man,  the  efficacy  of  his  action,  and  the  estima- 
tion of  his  character. 

Many  constitutions  are  so  formed  that  even  this  trait  of  mental 
freshness  and  vigor,  so  natural'to  early  life,  in  general,  needs  diligent 
cultivation  .to  secure  its  due  development  in  particular  cases.  The 
dreamy  indolence,  the  languid  inactivity,  the  tendency  to  aimless 
reverie  and  absence  of  mind,  which  proceed  from  organic  feebleness, 
wear  the  same  aspect  with  the  profound  abstraction  of  deep  and  earn- 
est thought,  and  thus  excite,  perhaps,  in  the  mind  of  the  parent  or 
the  teacher,  the  expectation  of  the  fruits  of  close  thinking  and  severe 
application — an  expectation  sure  to  be  disappointed.  The  irresolute 
youth  is  prone  to  sink  into  habitual  vacancy  of  mind,  indecision  of 
purpose,  vacillation  and  feebleness  of  judgment,  sluggishness  and 
utter  inefficiency  of  will.  • 

(5.)  Courage. — A  kindred  quality  of  soul  to  power  and  promptness 
of  resolution,  is  that  genuine  courage  which  man,  as  a  self-reliant  and 
independent  agent,  is  naturally  called  to  exert ;  and  which,  as  a  being 
of  conscious  energy  and  power,  by  his  very  constitution,  is  one  of  the 
primary  instincts  of  his  nature.  It  enables  him  to  assert  his  place  in 
the  creation,  as  an  agent  intrusted  with  dominion,  to  a  vast  extent, 
over  nature  and  circumstance,  and  destined  to  a  high  position  by  the 
exercise  of  his  peculiar  endowments.  It  protects  him,  at  the  same 
time,  from  any  undue  ascendency  usurped  over  him  by  a  fellow-man. 
It  prompts  him  to  oppose  and  resist  every  encroachment  on  his  rights, 
and  to  imperil  life  itself  in  defense  of  his  natural  liberty  of  action.  It 
nerves  him  to  encounter  danger,  to  triumph  over  obstacles,  and  to 
master  difficulties.  It  lightens  toil,  and  facilitates  attainment. — 
It  gives  to  the  energies  of  individual  mind  and  will  the  comparative 
force  of  numbers.  It  enables  man  to  achieve  miracles  of  physical 
strength  and  moral  power,  not  merely  on  the  field  of  conflict,  or  un- 
der the  gaze  of  admiration,  but  in  the  solitary  grapple  with  physical 
obstacles,  and  the  daring,  unassisted  encounter  with  the  fury  of  the 
elements,  when  the  lone  adventurer  hazards  life  on  some  far  errand 
of  scientific  or  humane  exploration.  In  its  higher  relations,  as  a  moral 
attribute,  it  inspires  the  individual  to  attack  usurping  or  even  ap- 
proaching evil,  in  its  most  formidable  shapes,  and  to  encounter  fear- 
lessly opposition  and  opprobrium,  and  death  itself,  in  the  cause  of 
truth  and  duty. 


]8Q  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

Courage  may,  it  is  true,  degenerate  into  inconsiderate  rashness  or 
fool-hardy  temerity,  and  prove  itself  but  a  blind  animal  impulse.  It 
is  the  office  of  education  to  enlighten  and  elevate  it,  and  render  it  a 
ministering  spirit  of  good  to  humanity,,  inspiring  it  with  intelligence, 
and  hallowing  it  with  the  sanctity  of  benevolence  ;  so  that  it  may  be- 
come wortfiy  to  fulfill  its  highest  offices,  and  lead  the  van  in  noble 
endeavor  for  the  advancement  of  human  well  being.  Its  moral  power 
and  value  then  become  incalculable  ;  and  to  cherish  it  is  a  peculiar 
duty  of  the  educator. 

,  (6.)  Fortitude. — A  virtue  yet  higher  than  even  the  noblest  form 
of  courage,  is  that  Firmness  to  sustain,  to  bear,  to  withstand,  to  en- 
dure, or  to  resist  every  pressure  of  pain  and  of  suffering  which  inev- 
itable evil  may  call  him  to  meet  and  to  undergo.  Along  with  this 
upholding  power  usually  comes  the  equanimity  which  preserves  from 
extremes  of  elation  or  depression,  and  maintains  the  moral  identity 
of  the  individual,  the  patience  which  soothes  and  tranquilizes,  and  co- 
operating with  the  enduring  firmness  of  its  kindred  virtue,  contributes 
to.  that  calm  self  possession  which  leaves  man  master  of  himself,  and 
equal,  in  his  native  greatness  and  acquired  abilities,  to  resist  the  as- 
saults of  evil,  and  bear  the  double  pressure  of  toil  and  pain  with  un- 
shaken firmness. 

•These  arduous  virtues  are,  in  no  sense,  innate,  or  constitutional 
merely  :  they  are  the  fruits  of  diligent  and  persevering  culture — the 
attainments  of  the  trained  and  practiced  spirit.  They  owe  their  power 
to,  that  self-education  which,  although  it  may  be  wisely  anticipated, 
must  wer,.  in  substance,  be  purchased  at  the  peculiar  price  of  per- 
sonal experience  and  strenuous  endeavor. 

(7.)  Perseverance* — Another  quality  of  high  rank  as  a  moral  power, 
and  closely  allied  to  the  preceding  group,  is  the  persistent  firmness  of 
purpose  which  follows  so  worthily  in  the  track  of  dauntless  courage, 
and  enables  man,  with  the  aid  of  time,  to  accomplish,  in  life-long  bat- 
tles with  external  nature,  those  wonders  of  triumphant  human  energy 
which  inspire  successive  generations  of  the  human  race  with  mingled 
admiration  and  awe.  It  is  the  same  trait  of  persistent  resolution  that 
has  enabled  com m unities  to  struggle,  for  successive  years,  for  a  foot- 
hojd  among  the  family  of  nations,  and  to  endure,  to  the  verge  of  ex- 
tinction, for  independence.  .  The  same  element  sustains  the  explorer 
ofroature,  in  his  years  of  solitary  exposure  and  unmitigated  hardship, 
thrpugh  toil,  and  sickness,  and  peril..  The  same  sustaining  power 
cheers  the  secluded  student  onward  through  his  labyrinths  of  exhaust- 
ing, investigation,  pursued  year  after  .year,  without  aid  or  sympathy, 
yetrnever  abandoned  till  some  glorious  discovery,  duly  verified,  crowns 
his  devoted  loyalty  to  science.  Indefatigable  perseverance,  in  the 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  181 

face  of  opposition  and  accumulated  difficulty,  has  been  the  condition 
of  success  in  many  a  noble  effort  of  philanthropy,  in  its  devoted  en- 
deavors to  alleviate  the  miseries  of  suffering  humanity,  by  meliorating 
its  outward  conditions,  enlightening  its  mental  darkness,  or  inspiring 
it  with  the  elements  of  a  new  moral  and  spiritual  life. 

Without  the  sustaining  power  of  this  attribute,  no  undertaking  of 
moment  has  ever  succeeded,  in  the  experience  of  individuals  or 
of  communities.  Yet  it  is  a  quality  in  which  the  young  mind,  in  its 
eager  desire  of  novelty,  and  its  need  of  alternations  of  activity,  is  more 
deficient  than  it  is  in  that  which  prompts  to  the  most  arduous 
attempts  or  heroic  efforts.  The  vigor  which  manifests  itself  in  firm 
adherence  to  plan  or  purpose,  is  usually  acquired  by  degrees,  under 
skillful  training.  But,  when  attained,  it  stamps  the  seal  of  certainty 
on  whatever  human  endeavor  is  competent  to  effect. 

(8.)  Self-government. — This  invaluable  trait  of  cultivated  character 
implies,  in  the  individual  who  possesses  it,  the  skill  and  the  mastery 
acquired  in  the  training  schools  of  conscience,  magnanimity,  resolu- 
tion, courage,  patience,  fortitude,  and  perseverance.  It  implies  all 
these  qualities  turned  inward  for  the  control  of  self.  Destitute  of 
self-command,  man,  when  brought  to  the  test,  is  but  as  the  infant,  or 
the  lower  animal — the  mere  victim  of  passion  and  impulse.  The 
main  moral  element  of  character,  is,  in  such  cases,  wanting  ;  and  the 
individual  sinks  in  the  scale  of  being,  not  only  in  its  moral,  but  its 
mental  relations.  The  exigencies  of  life  which  try  men's  souls,  and 
demand  the  perfect  action  of  all  their  faculties,  exhibit  the  inexpressi- 
ble value  of  this  trait  of  mental  and  moral  power,  by  which  man  is 
enabled  to  call  into  activity  the  nobler  elements  of  his  being,  and,  by 
their  authoritative  mandate,  control  and  restrain  every  lower  ten- 
dency of  his  nature.  He  thus  reigns  in  moral  sovereignty  over  him- 
self, and  reveals  the  true  majesty  of  manhood  ;  while,  in  loyal  subor- 
dination to  Divine  law,  he  manifests,  not  less  impressively,  the  moral 
beauty  of  the  spirit  of  filial  obedience. 

The  power  of  self-direction  and  self -guidance,  which  that  of  self- 
government  implies,  enables  man,  as  an  intellectual  agent,  to  concen- 
trate the  activity  of  his  whole  mental  being,  on  whatever  solicits  his 
thoughtful  attention,  or  tends  to  promote  or  enlarge  his  intelligence. 
In  the  moral  relations  of  his  being,  it  secures  him  against  the  allure- 
ments of  evil,  the  eruptions  of  passion,  the  wreck  of  his  peace  of  mind, 
or  the  moral  ruin  of  degrading  habits. 

Education,  in  its  common  forms,  it  is  true,  can  do  little  by  mere  ex- 
ternal precautions,  admonitions,  or  promptings,  to  confer  the  personal 
happiness  which  it  is  the  peculiar  office  of  self-government  to  bestow. 
Self-intelligence,  self-experience,  and  self-culture,  and  the  sanctity  of 


182  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

religions  principle,  are,  in  this  relation,  the  only  sure  reliance  for  hu- 
man virtue.  But  when  thus  grounded  and  rooted,  it  becomes  the 
firmest  security  for  every  trait  of  excellence. 

(9.)  Self-reliance  is  the  moral  reward  which  man  becomes  entitled 
to  reap  from  the  conscious  power  of  self-government ;  and,  within 
such  limitation,  it  is  the  pledge  of  many  of  the  distinguishing  traits 
of  manly  virtue.  It  may,  without  the  genial  guidance  of  education, 
become  over-weening  confidence  and  presumption.  But  rightly  de- 
veloped, it  is  the  proper  result  of  faith  in  the  attributes  conferred  on 
man's  nature  by  the  Source  of  his  being,  in  virtue  of  which  he  is  render- 
ed competent  for  the  station  and  the  duties  assigned  him,  as  an  intelli- 
gent, but  responsible  moral  agent.  The  conscious  feebleness  which 
induces  infancy  and  childhood  to  rely  on  the  power  on  which  they 
feel  they  are  dependent,  is  a  natural  and  appropriate  influence.  But 
in  the  history  of  the  moral  progress  of  the  human  being,  there  soon 
succeeds  a  stage,  in  which  for  the  highest  purposes  of  life  and  charac- 
ter, he  is  weaned  from  the  helpless  condition  of  dependence  on  others ; 
and  self-intelligence  and  self-respect  consciously  demand  the  inde- 
pendence of  self-exertion  and  self-reliance.  A  manly  spirit  of  just 
confidence  in  conscious  ability,  never  inconsistent  with  the  crowning 
grace  of  modesty,  secures  the  sincere  respect  of  all  who  themselves 
feel  the  dignity  of  manhood,  whether  in  its  dawn  or  its  maturity.  It 
is  an  indispensable  element  in  personal  character,  as  the  pledge  of 
courageous  enterprise,  and  persevering  application,  of  firmness  of  pur- 
pose, efficient  exertion,  and  final  success,  in  whatever  the  sense  of 
duty,  or  a  just  ambition,  prompts  the  aspirant  to  attempt. 

14.  THE  SELF-RENOUNCING  VIRTUES. — The  dependent  condition 
of  childhood  suggests  the  indispensable  relation  of  habitual  obedience 
to  parental  and  guardian  authority,  and  unquestioning  submission  to 
requirements  which  the  young  mind  may  not  always  be  able  to  com- 
prehend. The  unity  of  plan  and  administration,  and  the  perfect  sub- 
ordination, which  even  the  imperfect  vision  of  the  human  eye  can  dis- 
tinctly trace  in  the  arrangement  of  the  visible  creation,  suggest  to  the 
reflective  mind  the  universal  prevalence  of  Law,  as  the  prominent 
feature  of  Divine  government.  Order,  and  system,  and  gradation, 
which  man  sees  inscribed  on  all  things  around  him,  and  to  which  he 
is  conscious  that  his  own  mind  is  an  analogous  agent,  he  feels  to  be 
indispensable  in  his  own  sphere  of  action.  He  recognizes  them  as 
prompters  endued  with  a  wisdom  and  authority  above  his  own,  and* 
as  the  legitimate  directors  of  his  whole  course  of  action.  From  the 
habit  of  early  subordination,  acquired  under  the  guardian  care  of 
education,  when  rightly  conducted  in  the  sphere  of  home  and  school 
life,  the  self-intelligent  mind,  in  its  maturity  of  Christian  growth, 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  183 

iearns  to  recognize  the  paramount  claims  of  Divine  authority  to  un>- 
hesi  taring  obedience  and  cheerful  submission,  in  the  spirit  of  filial 
confidence  and  love,  even  when  patient  resignation  to  ordination  not 
understood  is  the  duty  of  the  moment,  and  the  utterance  of  the 
trusting  spirit  to  its  Author  can  only  be,  "  not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou 
wilt." 

In  the  relations  of  human  intercourse,  the  Modesty  which  feels 
what  is  due  to  others  as  exceeding  the  measure  of  merit  in  snlf,  is  no 
less  surely  an  attribute  of  true  nobility  in  man,  than  the  self-reliance 
which  forbids  a  feeble  dependence  on  others^  or  a  weak,  subservient 
compliance  with  their  arbitrary  wishes.  A  sincere  respect  for  just 
superiority,  indicates  the  open  eye  for  excellence,  as  manifested  in  the 
attainments  and  actions  of  others,  and  a  full  recognition  of  the  true 
worth  and  genuine  merit  embodied  in  their  character  or  conduct.  It 
is  the  rightful  homage  of  the  heart,  which  ennobles,  and  never  de- 
grades. It  restrains  presumptuous  self-confidence  and  arrogant  as- 
sumption, and  accepts,  in  true  nobleness  of  spirit,  that  lower  relative 
position  which  conscious  immaturity,  or  inexperience,  or  limited  at- 
tainments justly  assign.  It  constitutes  the  docility  of  childhood  and 
youth,  and  not  less  that  of  the  mature  student  of  science,  who  loves 
to  sit  at  the  feet  of  a  competent  instructor,  and  treasure  up  his  words 
of  wisdom. 

The  true  dignity  of  man,  as  an  intelligent  and  moral  being,  whils 
it  secures  his  personal  independence,  and  his  equality,  in  the  sight  of 
God,  with  every  individual  of  the  race,  is  by  no  means  inconsistent 
with  that  profound  respect  for  man,  as  the  offspring  of  the  Father  of  » 
spirits,  which  generates  humility  of  spirit  and  deportment,  between 
man  and  man,  forbids  all  assumption  as  usurpation,  arrogance  as  in- 
jury, and  haughtiness  as  insult,  and  yet  knows  how  to  meet  them 
with  the  gentle  spirit  of  Christian  meekness.  True  humility  deem? 
no  office  of  kindness  too  low  which  can  minister  to  the  welfare  of  a 
fellow  being,  whether  the  beneficent  act  be  gratefully  or  thoughtlessly 
received.  The  perfect  model  of  this  virtue  exhibited  by  Him  whose 
spirit  was  so  lowly  that  he  condescended  to  wash  the  feet  of  his  fol- 
lowers, was  nobly  copied  in  the  heroic  explorer*  who  did  not  disdain 
to  perform  the  lowest  of  menial  offices  for  his  suffering  crew. 

The  spirit  of '•  condescension  which  shuns  all  parade  and  formality  in 
intercourse  with  the  young  and  the  dependent,  and  easily  and  gently 
glides  into  sympathy  and  due  familiarity  with  all  worthy  fellow 
beings — which  skillfully  breaks  down  every  "  middle  wall  of  partition" 
between  man  and  man,  and  knows  how  to  "condescend  to  men  of  low 


*  Dr.  Kane,  in  the  scenes  of  his  Arctic  expedition. 


]84  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

estate,"  without  the  display  of  condescension — does  homage  to  the 
Maker,  in  honoring  the  man,  and  recognizes  the  individual's  own  posi- 
tion as  on  the  common  level  of  membership  in  the  great  fam.ly  which 
has  but  one  Head  and  one  Master. 

In  the  management  of  the  family  and  the  school,  the  whole  class 
of  virtues  on  which  we  are  now  dwelling,  requires  particular  attention 
in  all  communities  in  which  there  is  a  peculiar  tendency,  owinjr  to  the 
free  spirit  of  their  institutions,  to  place  a  high  nominal  value  on  those 
traits  of  character  which  indicate  independence  and  self-reliance.  The 
unreflective,  unreasoning  nature  of  childhood,  early  catches  the  spirit 
of  the  moral  and  social  atmosphere  in  which  it  breathes,  and  in  its 
natural  tendency  to  exaggeration  and  excess,  carries  what  might  have 
been  a  positive  excellence  to  a  noxious  vice.  The  absurd  and  cul- 
pable neglect  of  parental  control,  so  prevalent  in  our  day,  often  ex- 
hibits a  spectacle  of  apparent  insanity,  in  the  boys  and  girls  of  our 
families  and  our  schools  abandoning  the  natural  and  beautiful  charac- 
ter of  their  years,  and  ridiculously  trying  to  play  the  part  of  self-re- 
sponsible men  and  women. 

15.  EXAMPLE,  as   a  Moral  Influence. — Imitation — the  power  by 
which  man  is  enabled  to  maintain  his  personal  analogy  to  surround- 
ing conditions  of  nature,  life,  and  character,  and  thus  to  conform  to 
the  laws  of  being,  in  their  requirements — lays  him  open,  in  the  early 
stages  of  life,  more  particularly,  to  the  influence  of  example  in  the 
actions   of  his  fellow   beings.     The    character  of  parents,   teachers, 
companions,  is,  in  this   way,  unconsciously  transcribed   in  the   daily 
l^fe  of  childhood  and  youth,  and,  to  a  great  extent,  even  in  the  habit- 
ual actions  and  expressions  of  maturer  years.     The  law  of  sympa- 
thy, written  on  the  human  constitution,  in  its  effects  on  the  imitative 
tendency  natural  to  man,  is  a  most  fruitful  source  of  good  or  evil  in 
every  moral  relation  and,  emphatically  calls  for  the  watchful  care  of 
the  faithful  educator. 

16.  PRUDENCE,  as  a  Moral  'Monitor. — This  virtue — if,  in  obedience 
to  ancient  classification,  it  may  be  so  called — when  it  springs  from 
just  and   honorable   motives,  is  a  negative   but  preventive  wisdom, 
somewhat  analogous  in  its  conservative  effects,  to  the  modesty  which 
reserves  itself  in  communication  with  others.     It  is,  indeed,  but  a  pre- 
ventive virtue,  yet  one  which  education  properly  inculcates  as  a  pro- 
tection against  manifold  evil  to  the  individual  himself  as  well  as  to 
others.     It  forbids  hasty  conclusions,  rash  resolves,  injudicious  com- 
munication, inconsiderate  conduct,  hazardous  undertakings,  foolish  ex- 
penditures of  time,  strength,  health,   or  other  means  of  useful  or 
beneficent  action.     It  resembles  thus  the  self-control  which  keeps  man 
in  possession  of  his  powers,  and  enables  him  to  use  them  at  will.     Its 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  MORAL  CAPABILITIES.  JQ5 

moral  value,  therefore,  though  negative,  is  great,  and  great,  obviously, 
in  proportion  to  the  inexperience  and  unconsciousness  of  the  mind  in 
its  earlier  stages  of  progress. 

17.  PERSONAL  HABITS:  their  Moral  Value. — (1.)  The  observance 
of  Order  and  Method  in  the  distribution  of  time  and  the  succession  of 
occupations,  seems  to  be,  in  the  sphere  of  daily  life,  what  the  regu- 
larity of  alternation  in  day  and  night  and  the  return  of  the  seasons, 
is  to  the  year.  They  form  a  security  against  a  thoughless,  random 
mode  of  life,  destitute  of  steady  aim  and  purpose,  made  up  of  loose 
scraps  of  time,  unconsciously  or  idly  passed  in  effecting  nothing. 
Man's  dignity  and  destination  imperatively  forbid  such  a  life.  Moral- 
ity and  religion  equally  condemn  it.  But  from  the  multitude  and 
variety  of  objects  soliciting  its  attention,  and  of  desires  craving  grati- 
fication, the  young  mind,  unaided  by  education,  is  prone  to  lose  itself 
in  vague  and  abortive  endeavor  at  the  passing  moment,  instead  of 
relying  on  that  continuous  and  systematic  industry  to  which  nothing 
practicable  is  denied.  As  the  bark  of  life  floats  down  the  ceaseless 
stream  of  time,  the  hand  of  diligence  gathers  into  it,  hour  by  hour, 
the  rich  and  ever  increasing  freight  of  varied  acquisition,  in  anticipa- 
tion of  another  and  yet  happier  voyage,  in  the  great  Hereafter. 

Activity  and  energy,  in  any  pursuit,  are  valuable  or  successful  only 
as  far  as  they  have  the  continuity  and  sequence  of  system.  It  is  this 
logical  principle  which  gives  unity  and  invaluable  results  to  studies 
pursued  under  even  the  most  limited  opportunities  of  time,  and  which 
enables  the  student  to  weave  the  life  of  a  day  or  of  an  hour  into  the 
continuous  web  of  the  week,  the  month,  and  the  year. 

(2.)  Industry. — The  love  of  work,  and  the  habit  of  working — the 
steady  pursuit,  of  a  practical  purpose  in  practical  forms,  is  man's  first 
step  in  the  efficiency  which  elevates  him  above  the  lower  tribes  of  animal 
life,  as  a  being  endowed  riot  with  the  mere  sagacity — if  it  may  be  so 
called — of  instinct,  but  with  the  intelligent  forecast  which  foresees, 
and  fore-ordains,  and  prepares;  and  which  consciously  shapes  and 
sustains  a  definite  purpose,  and  willingly  and  skillfully  toils  for  its  ac- 
complishment. For  the  attainment  of  such  results  he  is  qualified  by 
his  original,  native  love  of  activity;  and  when  this  primary  impelling 
power  is  directed  by  intelligence  and  benevolence,  it  gives  efficiency 
and  success  to  all  his  endeavors,  whether  in  the  toil  which  wins 
the  treasures  of  knowledge  and  learning,  in  that  which  accumulates 
those  of  wealth,  or  in  that  which  indefatigably  works  for  human  good, 
in  the  labors  of  bene6cent  philanthropy. 

A  judicious  apportionment  of  time  and  occupation,  however  is 
indispensable  to  successful  and  continuous  industry.  By  such  a 


186  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

method  only  can  the  fatal  evils  of  excessive  close  application  be 
avoided,  and  the  due  alternation  of  intervals  of  entire  rest  and  of 
renovating  recreation  afford  opportunity  of  restoring  ancl  maintain- 
ing the  energies  of  life  and  mind.  He  who  does  not  bring  to  his 
work  the  powers  of  a  whole  man,  is  incompetent  even  to  the  task  of 
the  moment,  and,  in  the  long  run,  his  exertions  prove  but  a  success- 
ion of  failures.  The  jaded  student  or  teacher,  and  the  harassed  man 
of  business,  are  alike  unfitted  for  the  nobler  moral  purposes  of  their 
being.  Habits  of  early-formed  obedience  to  the  Creator's  laws  which 
regulate  the  whole  nature  of  man,  are  the  only  sure  reliance  for  the 
possession  of  permanent  vigor  of  body  and  mind,  or  the  soundness 
of  moral  health  in  the  dispositions  and  affections  of  the  heart.  Noth- 
ing short  of  this  personal  morality  in  planning  and  conducting  the 
business  of  life,  can  secure  the  unity  of  life  in  the  whole  man,  as 
an  intelligent,  efficient,  responsible  moral  agent. 

The  hygiene  of  man's  moral  being  demands  the  most  faithful  at- 
tention even  to  the  minor  details  of  corporal  well-being ;  and  in  no 
respect  can  education  more  effectually  subserve  man's  best  interests, 
than  by  an  enlightened  and  constant  attention  to  these  requisites  of 
mental  health,  through  the  whole  decisive  period  of  childhood  and 
youth,  which  sd  effectually  determines  the  character  of  subsequent 
life. 

The  lengthened  catalogue  of  virtues  and  of  duties,  which  a  dis- 
tinct enumeration  of  the  moral  capabilities,  of  human  nature,  as  the 
subject  of  educational  culture,  required,  will  not  discourage  the  faith- 
ful teacher,  in  view  of  the  manifold  duties  devolving  on  him  as  the 
guardian  of  the  young  mind ;  if,  as  we  hope  he  does,  he  regards 
moral  culture  as  the  chief  part  of  his  work,  and  values  intellectual 
attainment  in  his  pupils  only  as  it  conduces  to  the  higher  ends  of 
being  and  of  character.  Nor  will  the  extent  of  detail  in  our  sugges- 
tions be  objected  to  by  those  who  feel,  from  the  daily  experience  of 
the  teacher's  life,  how  close  must  be  the  watchful  observation  of 
disposition,  and  habit,  and  how  thoroughly  practical  must  be  the 
meliorating  methods  of  influence,  in  the  management  of  the  school- 
room as  a  scene  of  moral  development. 

If  the  preceding  outline  of  classification  serve  no  higher  purpose 
than  that  of  a  convenient  list  for  reference  to  prompt  the,  memory  of 
the  teacher,  in  his  endeavors  to  do  some  measure  of  justice  to  the 
numerous  sources  of  moral  influence  on  life  and  character,  the  pur- 
pose of  the  writer  will  have  been  effectually  accomplished. 


THOUGHTS  ON  RELIGION  AND  PUBLIC  SCHOOLS. 

BT   BT.  REV.  GEORGE   BURGESS,  D.  D. 


IF  the  Chratian  religion  \>Q  from  God,  it  ought  to  influence  every 
thought  and  act  of  man,  and  to  control  every  department  of  human 
life.  If  education  be  the  school  of  character,  it  is  least  of  all  to  be 
excepted  from  the  sovereignty  of  that  religion. 

That  Christian  men,  therefore,  should  view  with  indifference  any 
attempt  to  establish  an  absolute  separation  between  education  and 
religion,  is  not  to  be  expected  from  them  till  they  renounce  their 
faith.  They  can  have  no  more  idea  that  a  child  can  be  rightly  ed- 
ucated without  instruction  in  the  laws  of  God  and  in  the  Gospel, 
than  that  a  man  can  live  without  the  same  knowledge,  and  yet  duly 
serve  his  Maker,  and  be  prepared  for  the  life  to  come. 

Education,  therefore,  must  be  religious,  and  must  include  instruc- 
tion in  all  necessary  knowledge  of  the  truths  of  divine  revelation. 
In  proportion  as  the  dignity,  the  importance,  and  the  efficacy  of 
education  are  magnified,  this  necessity  becomes  but  the  more  im- 
pressive and  undeniable.  If  the  educator  could  be  content  with 
defining  his  task  as  that  of  teaching  to  read  and  to  write,  or  even  to 
measure  the  earth  and  to  number  the  stars,  it  might  be  allowed 
that  this,  like  any  other  specific  skill,  could  be  imparted  without 
saying  a  word  concerning  duty,  or  sin,  or  salvation.  But  we  are 
accustomed  to  hear  far  higher  praises  of  the  work  and  of  the  men 
that  are  to  form  the  youthful  mind,  and  so  to  shape  the  character 
and  the  destinies  of  a  people.  Either  undue  and  exaggerating 
honor  is  paid  to  the  office  of  the  teacher,  or  he  must  teach  the  most 
sacred  truths,  as  well  as  those  of  inferior  majesty  and  of  only 
earthly  interest. 

The  honest  Christian  must  bid  him  take  his  choice.  Be  the 
teacher,  he  will  say,  of  an  art  or  any  number  of  arts,  if  you  will,  and 
touch  not  moral  things;  or  be  a  teacher  of  all  which  makes  the 
man,  and  then  you  must  teach  the  knowledge  of  God. 

The  honest  teacher  will  answer,  either  that  he  is  a  Christian,  and 
is  ready,  according  to  his  ability,  to  teach  religiously  and  to  teach 
religion ;  or  that  he  is  content  to  leave  to  others  the  higher 

(187) 


188  THOUGHTS    ON    RELIGION    AND    PUBLIC    SCHOOLS. 

and  to  teach  only  the  elements  of  secular  science  and  art.  In  either 
event,  there  is  no  longer  any  confusion ;  and  the  question,  whether 
there  shall  be  a  course  of  secular  instruction,  and  a  separate  course 
of  religious  instruction,  or  whether  one  course  shall  mingle  both,  be- 
comes a  question  of  possibility  or  of  expediency,  and  is  transferred 
from  the  sphere  of  abstract  principle  and  imperative  conscience. 

The  clergy  of  most  countries  have  adhered  to  the  wider  view  of 
education  in  schools,  and  have  insisted,  as  long  as  they  could,  that 
it  should  be  distinctly  Christian,  and  should  even  form  a  part  of  the 
ecclesiastical  system.  They  are  not  to  be  blamed,;  and  had  union 
in  religious  belief  been  preserved,  it  is  hard  to  prove  that  their  plan 
would  not  have  been  altogether  the  best.  But  for  this  it  is  now  too 
late.  In  all  free  nations  the  freedom  of  discussion,  doubt,  and  denial 
has  been  practically  asserted  ;  and,  for  all  purposes  of  religious  edu- 
cation, the  body  of  Christians  is  one  no  longer. 

In  education,  viewed  as  a  whole,  the  place  to  be  occupied  by  re- 
ligious truth  has  not  lost,  for  this  cause  the  smallest  measure  of  its 
importance.  Religion  is  still  as  sovereign  there  as  ever.  Somewhere 
in  all  true  and  sufficient  education  it  must  have  its  throne ;  and  from 
that  throne  it  must  sway  all  the  rest. 

But  the  State  can  support  no  such  throne ;  because  the  State  is 
composed  of  an  immense  mass  of  men  whose  religion  is  not  the 
same.  When  education  becomes  a  matter  of  public  provision,  the 
very  highest  part  of  education  is  excepted.  The  public  school,  even 
if  under  that  name  we  should  embrace  any  more  elevated  institu- 
tions which  the  public  funds  might  sustain,  is  not  the  seat  of  that 
portion  of  this  moral  work  which  has  to  do,  most  directly  and  most 
mightily,  with  the  heart.  That,  however,  it  must  forego,  and  be 
content  with  its  own  appropriate  task  and  praise. 

The  higher  task  must  be  performed  elsewhere ;  and  the  conse- 
crated precincts  of  the  church,  and  the  equally  hallowed  walls  of 
home,  must  be  the  scene  of  religious  instruction.  It  has  there,  too, 
a  fitter  and  a  happier  sphere  than  the  State,  with  all  its  wealth  or 
its  universal  care,  can  attempt  to  furnish. 

All  this  is  perfectly  consistent  with  the  undoubted  fact  that  re- 
ligion is  the  prompting  motive  from  which  public  education  has  had 
its  origin,  and  must  have  its  best  support.  It  sustains  that  educa- 
tion as  it  sustains  every  good  design.  It  desires  that  all  men  should 
be  trained  in  useful  knowledge  of  every  kind,  because  it  desires 
their  improvement  and  happiness.  Ignorance,  in  its  view,  is  weak- 


THOUGHTS    ON    RELIGION    AND    PUBLIC    SCHOOLS.  189 

ness,  is  poverty,  is  exposure  to  moral  disease,  is  the  absence  of  many 
of  the  highest  enjoyments,  is  the  obstruction  of  the  purposes  for 
which  the  beneficent  Creator  made  rnan  in  His  own  image.  There- 
fore, ignorance  is  an  enemy  to  godliness,  and  a  hinderance  of  salva- 
tion, as  well  as,  in  itself,  a  positive  and  mighty  evil ;  and  religion 
must  long  and  labor  to  remove  it  from  the  path  of  society.  To 
suppose  that  a  Christian  can  be  indifferent  to  the  intellectual  culti- 
vation of  his  fellow-men  would  simply  imply  that  he  had  no  appre 
ciation  of  its  value  for  himself;  for  he  must  wish  to  communicate 
all  which  he  prizes. 

It  is  perfectly  true,  also,  that  even  in  the  teachers  of  all  secular 
knowledge,  religious  men  will  desire  and  prefer  a  spirit  and  princi- 
ples like  their  own.  A  father  who  merely  commits  his  son  to  the 
instructions  of  a  writing-master,  would  rejoice  to  find  in  him  a  man 
of  Christian  worth,  and  would  feel  that  the  boy  was  somewhat 
safer.  It  is  not  possible,  in  any  department  of  life,  to  exclude  or 
neutralize  the  beneficial  influence  of  the  steadfast  fear  of  God  and 
the  sincere  love  of  mankind.  The  religious  man  or  woman  will 
always  be,  all  other  things  being  equal,  unspeakably  the  better 
teacher,  even  of  arithmetic  or  of  needlework.  Under  any  system  of 
public  education,  however  remote  from  a  sectarian  or  exclusive 
character,  this  preference  will  be  felt,  and  cannot  be  changed  into 
indifference. 

Under  these  systems  the  introduction  of  religious  instruction,  in 
combination  with  secular  instruction,  is  relinquished,  not  upon 
grounds  of  abstract  excellence,  but  upon  those  of  convenience  or 
necessity.  Accordingly,  either  the  system  is  not  extended  over  the 
youngest  or  the  oldest  of  those  who  are  to  be  educated ;  or  if  it  be, 
it  does  not  command  a  general  acceptance.  The  public  school 
offers  no  urgent  invitation  to  the  child  just  rising  from  infancy ;  it 
leaves  him,  not  unwillingly,  to  the  gentle  hands  of  his  mother  or  of 
some  maternal  preceptress.  At  the  other  end  of  the  course,  colleges 
and  universities  are  commonly  allied  to  the  Church  rather  than  to 
the  State.  From  the  latter  they  accept  aid ;  to  the  former  they 
accord  welcome  intervention  and  an  active  control.  Not  merely 
financial  or  political  considerations  fix  the  limits  of  public  educa- 
tion on  this  side  of  the  highest  institutions  of  learning.  For  it  is 
felt  that  all  education  must  begin  and  end  in  religion ;  that  the 
infant  must  learn  the  names  of  God  and  of  the  crucified  Redeemei 
with  his  first  accents;  and  that  the  young  man  should  not  go  forth 


]90  THOUGHTS    ON    RELIGION    AND    PUBLIC    SCHOOLS. 

into  the  world  of  professional  study,  action,  and  influence,  without  a 
settled  faith.  But  between  these  two  periods  lies  the  time  which 
public  education  appropriates ;  appropriates,  simply  because  the 
interests  of  the  commonwealth  require  the  instruction  of  all  in  use- 
ful knowledge,  and  because  no  other  power  can  furnish  the  means 
of  such  instruction  for  all  alike. 

If  the  task  of  religious  education  be  then  declined  by  the  public 
teacher,  it  is  left  in  hands  which  certainly  are  better  fitted  to  exe- 
cute it  with  dignity,  with  diligence,  with  fidelity,  and  with  tender- 
ness. It  is  in  the  hands  of  special  teachers,  whose  labors  are  volun- 
tary ;  of  pastors ;  and  of  parents. 

The  Sunday  School  has  become  one  of  the  institutions  of  society, 
wherever  the  English  tongue  is  spoken.  It  enlists  a  body  of  teach- 
ers whose  intelligence  is  animated  by  no  other  impulse  than  that  of 
Christian  love.  They  receive  no  hire,  and  they  wield  no  instruments 
of  discipline.  They  come  to  their  pupils  on  they  day  which  is  con- 
secrated to  all  holy  works  of  piety  and  chanty.  There  is  nothing 
to  disturb  the  pure  influence  of  their  instruction ;  no  other  studies 
crowding  in ;  no  intermixture  of  heathen  mythology  or  abstract 
science  ;  no  hurry  to  the  playground  ;  no  dread  of  the  rod  or 
superadded  task ;  and  none  of  those  hereditary  associations,  which, 
absurd,  unjust,  and  pernicious  as  they  are,  yet  do  still,  more  or  less, 
connect  themselves  with  the  relation  between  the  boy  and  the  pro- 
fessional teacher.  Love  is  the  bond  between  those  who  teach  and 
those  who  learn  on  the  Sabbath. 

When  the  pastor  is  the  teacher,  love  is  united  with  reverence.  His 
office  inspires  that  reverence,  and  his  intelligence  in  sacred  things 
merits  a  confidence  which  might  elsewhere  be  less  readily  bestowed. 
The  duties  of  pastors  to  the  young  may  be  but  imperfectly  under- 
taken, especially  where  the  ancient  and  most  useful  custom  of  cate- 
chising has  fallen  into  neglect.  But  it  would  still  be  great  injus- 
tice to  compare  their  influence  with  that  of  teachers  who  sustain  no 
sanctity  of  office,  have  devoted  no  special  study  to  sacred  letters, 
and  are  not,  in  virtue  of  their  office,  supposed  to  be  persons  of 
piety. 

But  no  teachers  have  an  appointment  more  holy  or  divine  than 
fathers  and  mothers.  The  cannot  but  educate  their  children  reli- 
giously or  irreligiously.  No  separation  can  take  place  in  the  train- 
ing of  home ;  for  that  is  purely  for  the  heart  and  soul ;  and  its  first 
and  supreme  end  is  the  goodness  of  the  child.  He  learns  his 


THOUGHTS    ON    RELIGION    AND    PUBLIC    SCHOOLS.  191 

prayers  on  the  knees  of  his  mother ;  he  is  taught  to  examine  him- 
self at  the  close  of  each  day ;  his  conduct  is,  without  ceasing,  sub- 
jected to  a  watchful  scrutiny ;  there  is  no  vacation,  no  recess,  no 
occasion  when  he  is  released  from  this  supervision.  These  teachers 
have  an  authority,  too,  which,  for  him,  is  the  direct  interpretation 
of  the  will  of  his  Maker.  To  the  child,  the  voice  of  the  parent  is 
the  voice  of  God  ;  for  so  has  God  commanded.  And  all  which  he 
hears  and  learns  from  these  sources  comes  to  him  as  nourishment 
from  the  bosom  of  an  exhaustless  love,  to  which  his  childhood  must 
cling  as  if  it  were  to  him  the  whole  wide  universe. 

This  is  the  provision  which  the  Church  and  the  family,  with  many 
collateral  aids,  assign  for  religious  education.  Piety  in  the  public 
teachers,  and  religious  truth  in  the  common  school,  would  be  addi- 
tional aids;  but  are  they  indispensable,  or  could  their  influence 
be  weighed  in  the  balance  against  all  this  ?  Whatever  may  be  the 
excellence  of  many  professional  instructors,  whatever  their  noble  en- 
thusiasm in  their  calling,  it  is  not  to  be  disputed,  that,  as  a  body, 
the  teachers  of  public  schools  are  governed,  in  the  choice  and 
pursuit  of  their  occupation,  by  the  same  motives  which  incite  per- 
sons of  respectable  and  worthy  characters  in  all  departments  of 
business.  They  engage  in  it  for  a  remuneration ;  they  abandon  it 
when  it  becomes  unprofitable ;  or  they  exchange  if  for  positions  which 
are  more  lucrative  or  more  to  their  taste.  They  are  not  appointed, 
and  cannot  well  be,  for  their  personal  devoutness.  If  they  should  teach 
religion,  it  would  be  as  they  teach  grammar,  not 'because  the  task  is 
known  to  be  enthroned  in  their  affections,  but  because  it  is  made  a 
part  of  their  business.  We  do  not  disparage  the  transcendent  benef- 
icence and  exalted  piety  of  many  teachers ;  but  it  is  an  accident,  so  to 
speak,  whether  these  mark  the  character  of  an  individual  teacher ; 
they  are  not  and  cannot  be  the  distinguishing  properties  of  a  class 
selected  as  teachers  must  always  be  under  any  public  arrangements. 
Little  will  it  avail,  that  a  cold,  dry,  unfeeling,  and  perhaps  unbeliev- 
ing teacher,  consent  to  teach  catechism,  or  to  open  his  school  with 
prayers.  A  truly  religious  teacher,  even  without  those  exercises, 
will  leave  some  impress  of  his  own  spirit  on  the  minds  which  he 
has  assisted  in  forming  and  replenishing.  This  can  be  attained 
even  now ;  and  if  any  would  avoid  this,  they  must  make  piety  a 
ground  of  exclusion  from  the  office.  The  most  determined  unbe- 
liever would  hardly  desire  such  an  issue ;  but  neither  can  piety  be 
made  a  condition  of  admission,  if  it  were  even  in  our  power  to  en- 


192 

force  the  rules,  since  the  talents  and  acquisitions  which  make  the 
successful  teacher  are  dissociated  from  it ;  and  since,  precious  as  it 
is,  it  cannot,  in  this  position,  be  deemed  one  of  the  chief  instruments 
on  which  the  cause  of  religion  must  rely. 

What,  then,  is  the  power  which  Christianity  cannot,  and  what  is 
that  which  it  can,  exercise  in  the  system  of  public  schools  of  a  land 
like  our  own  ? 

It  cannot  teach  all  its  doctrines  and  laws,  as  they  are  held  by  any 
body  of  Christian  believers. 

It  cannot  blend  religious  truth  with  secular  instruction,  to  any 
degree  which  implies  the  attempt  to  communicate  systematic  reli- 
gious knowledge. 

It  cannot  attempt  to  inculcate  a  religious  character,  or,  in  other 
words,  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  precept  and  exhortation. 

It  can  take  for  granted  a  general  acquaintance,  in  the  pupils, 
with  the  facts  of  Christianity,  united  with  /everence  for  it  as  a 
Divine  revelation. 

It  can  infuse  into  the  teacher,  so  far  as  he  obeys  it,  a  spirit  which 
attracts  to  his  religion,  and  inspires  the  desire  to  resemble  its  faith- 
ful followers. 

It  caw  afford  a  Christian  view  of  every  science  and  every  depart- 
ment of  knowledge,  and  show  their  connection  with  revealed  truth 
in  its  great  outlines. 

It  can  inculcate  the  whole  moral  code  of  the  Gospel,  by  rule  and 
example. 

It  can  exclude  and  counteract  every  influence  of  infidelity. 

It  can,  in  many  instances,  with  the  universal  consent  of  the  com- 
munity, affix  a  more  decidedly  religious  character  to  the  school 
duties  of  each  day,  by  the  observance  of  daily  prayers. 

It  can,  with  the  same  consent,  introduce  the  Bible,  and  promote, 
by  daily  reading,  the  familiar  knowledge  of  its  contents ;  not  as  if 
it  were  a  mere  reading-book,  though  the  best,  but  as  the  generally 
acknowledged  word  of  God. 

It  can,  with  the  same  consent,  which  may  generally  be  assumed, 
impress,  as  occasion  is  offered,  all  that  great  and  priceless  mass  of 
truth  in  which  all  Christians  are  substantially  united. 


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cation, by  Barnard,  Burgess,  Bushnell,  Channing,  Cowdery,  Dickinson,  Doane, 
Everett,  Fairchild,  Hart,  Hopkins,  Huntington,  Mann,  Page,  Philbrick,  Pierce, 
Potter,  Sheldon,  Wayland,  and  Wilbur.  Selected  from  Barnard's  American 
Journal  of  Education.  First  Series.  Third  Ed.  576  pages.  $3.00. 

CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

I. — EDUCATION  AND  SCHOOLS 1-4 

BUSHNELL— PAGE— POTTER— WOODBRIDGE— MANN 5 

II. — FACULTIES  AND  STUDIES — Their  Order  and  Method  of  Treatment.  .5-268 
I.  INTELLECTUAL  AND  MORAL  EDUCATION.    By  William  Russell 5-156 

1.  The  Perceptive  Faculties 5 

2.  The  Expressive  Faculties ..! ^...     57 

3.  The  Reflective  Faculties 101 

II.  MORAL  EDUCATION.    By  William  Russell 157-186 

Health— Intellect— Taste— Sensibility— Instinctive  Tendencies 100 

Primary  Emotions— Benignant  Affections— Generous  Affections 165 

Religious  Principles— The  Will— Practical  Virtues— Humane  Virtues 175 

Personal  Qualities— Self  Renouncing.  Virtues— Example— Habits 179 

III.  RELIGIOUS  INSTRUCTION.     By  Rt.  Rev.  George  Burgess 187-192 

Intrinsic  Importance — Limitations  in  Public  Schools 187 

IV.  THE  TRUE  ORDER  OF  STUDY.    By  Thomas  Hill,  D.D 193-254 

Mathesis— Physics— History— Psychology  -Theology 196 

V.  THE  POWERS  TO  BE  EDUCATED.     By  Thomas  Hill,  D.D 245-256 

The  Senses — Inward  Intuition — Memory — Reason — Sensibility — Will 245 

VI.  MIND— OBJECTS  AND  METHODS  OP  ITS  CULTURE.    By  Francis  Wayland,  D.D.  257-272 

1.  Science  of  Education — To  discover,  apply,  and  obey  God's  Laws 259 

2.  Methods  of  training  the  mind  to  these  objects 266 

III. — THE  TEACHER 273-304 

I.  THE  DIGNITY  OF  THE  OFFICE,  AND  SPECIAL  PREPARATION.     By  W.  E.  Channing... .  273 

II.  THE  TEACHER'S  MOTIVES.    By  Horace  Mann 277 

IV. — NATIONAL  AND  STATE  RELATIONS  TO  EDUCATION 305-336 

I.  EDUCATION  A  NATIONAL  INTEREST.    George  Washington 305 

II.  THE  DUTY  OF  THE  STATE  TO  MAKE  EDUCATION  UNIVERSAL 31 

BISHOP  DOANE— Address  to  the  People  of  New  Jersey 313 

PENN— ADAMS— JEFFERSON— MADISON— J  AT— RUSH— KENT 317 

III.  THE  RIGHT  AND  PRACTICE  OF  PROPERTY  TAXATION  FOR  SCHOOL  PURPOSES 323 

D.  D.  BARNARD — Report  to  the  Legislature  of  New  York 323 

DANIEL  WEBSTER — The  early  School  Policy  of  New  England 327 

HORACE  MANN— The  principles  underlying  the  Ordinance  of  1647 328 

HENRY  BARNARD— The  Early  School  Codes  of  Connecticut  and  New  Haven 332 

National  Land  Grants  for  Educational  Purposes 334 

V. — VARIOUS  ASPECTS  OP  POPULAR  AND  HIGHER  EDUCATION 337-400 

I.  BISHOP  ALONZO  POTTER,  D.D.,  of  Penn 337 

Consolidation  and  other  Modifications  of  American  Colleges 337 

II.  EDWARD  EVERETT,  President  of  Harvard  College 343 

Reminiscences  of  School  and  College  Life— Conditions  of  a  good  school. ...  344 

Popular  Education  and  Sound  Science— Moral  Education &50 

Generous  Studies— Homeric  Controversy— Education  and  Civilization #>6 

Popular  Education-Boston  Public  Library— Female  Education 361 

HI.  F.  A.  P.  BARNARD,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  President  of  Columbia  College 367 

College  Contributions  to  the  American  Educated  Mind 367 

Sub-graduate  and  Post-graduate  Collegiate  Course— Oral  Teaching 37J 

Higher  Scientific  Instruction— Elective  Studies 375 


AMERICAN  PEDAGOGY.— FIRST  SERIES. 

PAGE. 

IV.  MASK  HOPKINS,  D.D. ,  President  of  Williams  College 378 

Education— Self  Education— Female  Education— Academies 378 

Medical  Science— Theological  Education— Colleges 381 

V.  JAMES  E.  FAIRCHILD,  D.D.,  President  of  Oberlin  College 385 

Co-education  of  the  Sexes 385 

VI. — PROFESSIONAL  OR  NORMAL  AIMS  AND  METHODS  IN  TEACHING 401 

I.  JOHN  S.  HART,  Principal  of  State  Normal  School,  Trenton 401 

What  is  Special  or  Professional  Preparation  ? — Teaching — Training 403 

Recitations— Art  of  Questioning 417 

II.  CYRUS  PIERCE,  Principal  of  the  first  State  Normal  School 425 

Aims  and  Methods  in  Training  Pupil-Teachers 425 

III.  NICHOLAS  TILLIXGHAST,  Principal  of  State  Normal  School  at  Bridgewater 431 

Aims  and  Methods  in  Training  Teachers 432 

IV.  J.  W.  DICKINSON,  Principal  of  State  Normal  School  at  Westfield 433 

,  The  Philosophy  and  Method  of  Teaching  at  Westfield 433 

V.  D.  P.  PAGE,  Principal  of  State  Normal  School,  Albany.. . .- 437 

The  Pouring-in  Process— The  Drawing-out  Process— Waking  up  of  Mind. . .  437 

DR.  WAYLAND— THOMAS  H.  GRIMKE 447 

Method  of  Recitation  and  Study 448 

VI.  E.  A.  SHELDON,  Principal  of  State  Training  School,  Oswego 449 

Object  Teaching  as  pursued  at  Oswego 449 

VII.  H.  B.  WILBUR,  Superintendent  of  State  School  for  Feeble  Minded  Youth 459 

Object  Teaching  as  pursued  at  Oswego 459 

VIII.  S. W.  MASON,  Principal  of  Hancock  Grammar  School,  Boston „ 465 

Physical  Exercises  in  School 465 

IX.  M.  F.  COWDERY,  Superintendent  of  Public  Schools,  Sandusky 473 

Formation  of  Moral  Character 473 

VII. — WORK   BEFORE   THE   AMERICAN    TEACHER  AND   EDUCATOR..    585-576 

I.  HENRY  BARNARD 485 

Magnitude  and  Modes  of  Advancing  the  Educational  Interests  of  the 

United  States 485 

II.  HORACE  MANN 513 

Addresses  as  President  of  the  National  Convention  of  the  Friends  of 

Common  Schools,  in  Philadelphia,  1849 513 

HI.  JOHN  D.  PHILBRICK,  Superintendent  of  Public  Schools,  Boston 513 

Address  before  the  National  Teachers'  Association,  1862 510 

SECOND  SERIES. 

[A  Second  Volume  of  Selections  from  Barnard's  American  Journal  of  Educa- 
tion on  Topics  in  the  wide  field  of  American  Pedagogy,  will  be  issued  in  1873, 
and  will  contain  Reports,  Essays,  and  Thoughts,  by  Adams,  Bache,  Barnard, 
Beecher,  Boutwell,  Brooks,  Bushnell,  Choate,  Eaton,  Emerson,  Gregory,  Har- 
ris, Huntington,  Kiddle,  Lewis,  Lindsley,  Mann,  Sears,  Smith,  White,  and 
others.] 

I. — EDUCATION  AND   SCHOOLS 1~4 

II.— LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  TEACHER.    By  Gideon  F.  Thayer 5-104 

VIL— POWER  OF  CHARACTER  AND  EXAMPLE 385-416 

I.  HOEACE  BUSHNELL ^ 

Magnetism  of  Character— Unconscious  Influence J°« 

n.  RT.  REV.  F.  D.  HUNTINGTON 

Unconscious  Tuition ™ 


BARNARD'S  PUBLICATIONS.  y 

PRIMARY  SCHOOLS  AND  ELEMENTARY  INSTRUCTION  :  Object  Teaching  and 
Oral  Lessons  on  Social  Science  and  Common  Things,  with  various  illus- 
trations of  the  Principles  and  Practice  of  Primary  and  Elementary  In- 
struction in  the  Model  and  Training  Schools  of  Great  Britain.  Second 
Edition.  544  pp.  $3.00. 


CONTENTS. 


PACK. 

I.  METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION.    By  Rev.  William  Ross 7 

1.  The  Catechetical  Method 7 

Conditions  of  a  correct  Question 9 

Conditions  of  a  good  Answer 10 

Counsels  and  Cautions 13 

2.  Socratic  Method  applied  to  Religious  Subjects 15 

3.  Defense  of  the  Catechetical  Method 17 

II.  ORAL  LESSONS  ON  REAL  OBJECTS.     By  Thomas   Morrison,  Rector   of  the   Free 

Church  Training  College,  Glasgow, 21 

Science  of  Common  Things, 22 

Oral  Lessons— First  Stage, 23 

"              Second  Stage, 26 

"              Third  Stage 26 

Requisites  for  success  in  Oral  Teaching, 27 

Materials, 29 

Methods, 29 

Notes  of  Lessons, 30 

First  Stage.     Example  I.  The  Cow.    II.  A  Fire.     III.  The  Camel.    IV.  The 

Elephant 31 

List  of  Subjects 35 

Second  Stage.  Example  I.  Winnowing  of  Corn.  II.  The  Spider's  Web.  III. 
The  common  Bat.  IV.  Reaping  of  Corn.  V.  Watering  of  Streets.  VI. 

The  Duck.     VII.   Nests  of  Birds.     VIII.  The  making  of  Grain  into  Meal,.  36 

List  of  Subjects 41 

Third  Stage.  Example  I.  The  Thermometer.  II.  The  Barometer.  III.  Dew. 
IV.  The  Land  and  Sea  Breeze.  V.  Why  does  Ice  float.  VI.  Application 
of  Lesson.  VII.  Locality  often  determines  Custom.  VIII.  Rice.  IX.  The 

Cotton  Plant.     X.  Oceanic  Currents 42 

List  of  Subjects— On  Heat, 47 

Mechanics,  Pneumatics,  Optics,  Daily  life, 48 

III.  SPECIMEN  NOTES  OF  LHSSONS.     Selected  from  various  authors, 49 

The  Palm  Tree — Analysis  of  a  Reading  Lesson, 49 

Pens—].  Ancient  Pens, 49 

2.  Modern 50 

Pens — differently  treated — Fir  ft  Lesson, 55 

"           Second  Lesson, 55 

"              "              "           Third  Lesson, 56 

Ronds, 51 

Weekly  Expenditure  of  a  Laboring  Man — Food, 52 

11                 "                                                 Cooking  of  Food, 53 

Climate, 55 

IV.  GALLERY   TRAINING    LESSONS — ORALLY    PRESENTED,  ON  NATURAL    SCIENCE 

AND  COMMON   THINGS.     By  David   Stow,  Founder  of  the  Glasgow  Normal 

Training  Seminary, 57 

Oral  Training  Lessons  in  Science 57 

Objects  of  daily  observation  and  experience, 59 


CONTENTS. 


Practical  Examples,  ........................................................     63 

I.   The  Camel.    II.   The  Mole.     III.  Air  a  Conductor  of  Sound  ............     71 

Selections  of  subjects  for  Oral  Gallery  Lessons,  ................................     74 

I.  Infant  or  Initiatory  Department.     II.  Juvenile  Department.     111.  Senior  De- 

partment.    IV.  Miscellaneous  Department.     V.  Human  Body  and  Health,     87 
Apparatus  and  Material  required,  ............................................     91 

V.  PRIZE   SCHEMES  FOR  THE    ENCOURAGEMENT  OF  A  KNOWLEDGE   OF  COMMON 

THINGS  AMONG  TEACHERS.     By  Prof.  Sullivan,  and  Lord  Ashburton,  ........     93 

Special  efforts  to  stimulate  Teachers,  .........................................     93 

Prof.  Sullivan's  Prize  Scheme,  ...............................................     97 

Questions  for  the  Ashburton  Prizes,  ..........................................   101 

VI.  NECESSITY   AND    PROGRESS  OF    ELEMENTARY    INSTRUCTION    IN    ECONOMICAL 

SCIENCE.    By  Charles  Knight,  .............................................  105 

Objections  to  teaching  Political  Economy  to  the  Laborer,  .......................  105 

Objections  answered  by  Dr.  Chalmers,  and  Dr.  Whately,  .......................   105 

William  Ellis,  and  the  Birkbeck  Schools,  ......................................   106 

Specimen  Lessons  by  Mr.  Shields  nt  the  Peckham  School,  ......................   108 

Lectures  on  Social  Science,  by  Mr.  Ellis,  .........  .'  .........................  ....  110 

Enlarged  course  at  Mechanic's  Institutes,  .....................................   112 

VII.  SUBJECTS  AND  METHODS  OF  TEACHING   IN  REFERENCE   TO  THE  PREVENTION 

OF  MISERY  AND  CRIME.     By  Edward  Campbell  Tainsh,  .....................   1  16 

Causes  of  Misery  and  Crime,  ................................................   116 

Idleness,  Intemperance,  Improvidence,  ........................................   1  )7 

Extravagance,  Dishonesty,  Ungoverned  Passions,  ...............................   118 

Correct  Habits  of  feeling,  thinking  and  acting,  .................................   119 

Specimen  Lesson  —  on  Industry,  ..............................................  120 

"  "  Economy,  Forethought  .................................   121 

««  "  Drunkenness  ............................................  123 

"  "  Honesty  ...............................................   123 

•'  "  Envy,  Jealousy,  Cruelty,  Revenge  ........................   126 

"  «  Morality  ...............................................  127 

"  "  Knowledge,  ............................................   128 

«'  "  Social  Relationship,  ...................................   129 

Objections  to  this  kind  of  teaching  answered  ...................................   131 

VIII.  PROGRESS  OF  ELEMENTARY  EDUCATION  IN  IRELAND,  .........................   133 

Varied  educational  experience,  ..............................  .•  ................   133 

Efforts  of  the  English  Government  to  establish  Protestant  Schools  ................   134 

Parliamentary  Commissioners  of  Inquiry,  .....................................   135 

Board  of  Commissioners  of  National  Education  ................................    136 

Results  —  I.  National  system  —  as  to  creed  and  politics,  .........................   137 

41        II.  Professional  training  of  teachers,  ..................................    138 

"      III.  Schools  of  different  grades,  .......................................   143 

•'       IV.  School-houses,  ..................................................   147 

"        V.  Cheap  and  uniform  Text-books  ...................................  147 

"       VI.  Inspection,  .....................................................  147 

"     VII.  Liberal  appropriations,  ...........................................   148 

Testimony  as  to  success  in  1859,  .............................................    150 

IX.  SUBJECTS  AND  METHODS  OF  PRIMARY  EDUCATION,  AS  PRESENTED  IN  THE  MODEL 

INFANT  SCHOOL,  DUBLIN.    By  Thomas  Urry  Young  .........................   155 

Necessity  and  nature  of  the  Infant  or  Primary  School  ..........................   155 

Moral  Education,  ...........................................................   158 

Intellectual  Education,  ......................................................  I62 

Physical  Education,  ................  ........................................   lf)U 

Hints  to  Teachers,.  .  ,  1G7 


Qualifications  of  the  Teacher, 


169 


Pestalozzi's  opinion, 

Wilderspin's I7° 

School  Rules  and  Regulations, 


Rules  for  Parents, . 


171 


Maxims  to  be  observed  by  Teachers " 


CONTENTS. 

PACK. 

School-room  Rules, 172 

Play-ground  Rules, 172 

Sanitary  Regulations, 172 

Time  Table, 174 

Daily  Time  Table, 175 

Synopsis  of  a  Weeks  Lessons 175 

Developing  Lessons — or  the  training  of  the  Perceptive  Faculties 17G 

Form, 178 

Lines, 180 

Angles, 181 

Plane  Figures, 1£2 

Solids — Specimen  Lesson, 184 

Color — Specimen  Lesson, 186 

Size — Specimen  Lesson, 188 

X.  ORGANIZATION  AND  INSTRUCTION  OF  THK  ORDINARY  NATIONAL  SCHOOLS, 205 

1.  Circular  of  Commissioners  in  Deference  to  the  organization  of  National  Schools.  205 

2.  Remarks  on  the  details  of  organization, 208 

(a.)  Tripartite  System, . 210 

(b.)  Bipartite  System 211 

3.  Time  Table  for  Boys'  School 212 

4.  Time  Table  for  Girls'  School, 213 

5.  Topics  of  Lectures  on  Methods  of  Teaching, 214 

XL  PROGRESS  OF  ELKMENTARY  EDUCATION  IN  SCOTLAND 215 

Enactment  of  1464, 215 

First  Book  of  Discipline  in  1560, . ....  215 

Act  of  1615,  1633,  1696 216 

Results  of  the  Parochial  Schools, 217 

Act  of  1828 219 

Sessional  Schools, 219 

Extension  of  the  system, 220 

Lord  Brougham  and  Dr.  Chalmers,  on  the  socinl  character  of  the  schools, 221 

Plan  for  improving  the  system, 223 

Statistics, 224 

XII.  SUBJECTS  AND  METHODS  OF  EARLY  EDUCATION.    By  James  Currie.    Principal  of 

the  Church  of  Scotland  Training  College,  Edinburgh, 229 

1.  Introduction— General  character  of  the  Infant  School, 229 

II.  Physical  circumstances, 233 

III.  Intellectual  instruction 236 

1.  Object-Lessons, 236 

List  of  Subjects   for    First   Stage— (1)   Natural    History.     (2.)  Domestic 

Economy.    (3.)    Physiology.     (4.)    Industrial  Economy.     (5.)    Common 

Things.      6.)   Physical  Appearance, 239 

List  of  Subjects  for  Second  Stage, 241 

"  "  Third  Stage, 242 

Examples  in  Outline  of  Lessons  for  First  Sta?e,. 242 

I.  The  Sheep.     II.  A  Bed.     III.  The  Mouth.    IV.  The  Baker's  Shop.    V. 

The  Cart.    VI.  Rain 244 

Examples  of  Lessons  for  Second  Stnge, 4 244 

I.  The  Elephant.    II.  The  Sponge.    III.  The  term  "  Porous," 245 

Example  of  Lessons  for  Analysis, 245 

2.  Number, 247 

3.  Color  and  Form, „ 2">8 

4.  Singing 207 

5.  Geography , 269 

6.  Reading  to  Children, 272 

7.  Reading  and  Spelling 277 

8.  Grammar 284 

IV.  Religious  Instruction 284 

Example  (1.)  Narrative.     (2.)  Emblem.     (3.)  Precept.     (4.)  Prayer.     (5.)  Moral 

Lesson  on  Truth, 291 


CONTENTS. 

PA  OB. 
Exercises  of  Devotion, 292 

XIII.  METHOD  AND  EXAMINATION.    By  James  Morrison,  Rector  of  Free  Church  Train- 

ing College,  Glasgow, 294 

1.  Method  in  general, 294 

2.  Synthesis  and  Analysis, 294 

3.  Individual  Instruction, 298 

4.  Simultaneous  Instruction, 299 

5.  Mutual  Instruction, 300 

6.  Questioning, 30 1 

7.  Ellipsis, 304 

8.  Examination, 305 

XIV.  LESSON  ON  COLOR.    By  J.  H.  Hay, 3-21 

Diagram, 303 

XV.  PROGRESS  or  ELEMENTARY  EDUCATION  IN  ENGLAND, 323 

1.  Early  educational  movements, 323 

2.  Foundation  of  Grammar  Schools  and  Free  Schools, 324 

3.  Origin  of  Sunday  Schools,  labors  of  Lancaster  and  Bell, 328 

Mechanic's  Institutions— Ragged  Schools 332 

4.  Parliamentary  Action,  from  1807  to  1854, 337 

Measures  of  the  Committee  of  Council, 311 

Normal  Schools,  or  Training  Colleges,  in  England, 349 

Earliest  efforts  for  the  Professional  Training  of  Teachers, 349 

Parliamentary  Grunt  of  1835, 350 

System  of  Denominational  Training  Colleges, 351 

XVI.  BRITISH  AND  FOREIGN  SCHOOL  SOCIETY, 355 

History  of  Society, 355 

"  Normal  Establishment, 355 

XVII.  MANUAL  OF  THE  SYSTEM  OF  PRIMARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  THE  MODEL  SCHOOLS 

OF  THE  BRITISH  AND  FOREIGN  SCHOOL  SOCIETY, 381 

I.  Fittings  and  Organization 381 

1.  School  Fittings, 381 

2.  Sections  and  Drafts 383 

3.  Ckssification  for  Reading 383 

4.  "  Writing 384 

5.  "  Arithmetic 384 

6.  "  for  other  Studies, 385 

II.  Agency  Employed, 385 

1.  Pupil  Teachers, 385 

2.  Monitors 387 

III.  Methods  of  Instruction 391 

1.  General  Principles, / 391 

2.  Preparatory  Section 393 

3.  Collective  Teaching 395 

4.  Class  Teaching— Reading, 399 

5.  "  "  Interrogation, 401 

6.  "  "  Spelling 409 

7.  "  «•  Writing 410 

8.  "  "  Arithmetic, 411 

9.  "  "  Grammar  and  Composition, 415 

30.  Class  Teaching— Geography, 421 

11.  "  "  Miscellaneous  Lessons, 425 

12.  "  "  Drawing 426 

13.  "  "  Vocal  Music 426 

IV.  Scriptural  Instruction, 427 

V.  Girls'  School— Needle-work, 432 

XVIII.  BRITISH  AND  FOREIGN  SCHOOL  SOCIETY — RELIGIOUS  BASIS,  &c 435-448 

XIX.  HOME  AND  COLONIAL  INFANT  AND  JUVENILE  SCHOOL  SOCIETY 449-486 

XX.  NATIONAL  SOCIETY  AND  THE  BELL  OR  MADRAS  SYSTEM 487-500 

XXI.  MANUAL  OF  METHOD  FOR  NATIONAL  SCHOOLS.    By  W.  F.  Richards 501-530 


GERMAN  PKDAGOGY  : — Views  of  German  Educators  and  Teachers  on  tfie 
Principles  of  Education,  and  Methods  of  Instruction  for  Schools  of  different 
Grades.  Republished  from  Barnard's  American  Journal  of  Education.  3d 
Edition,  640  pages. 

CONTENTS. 


Page. 

INTRODUCTION, .          ..          .  .    9-22 

SCHOOLS  AND  EDUCATION  IN  GERMAN  LITERATURE,        .....  11 

FREDERICK  FROEBEL, 23 

SYSTEM  OP  INFANT  GARDEN  TRAINING  AND  INSTRUCTION,         ....  23 

FROEBEL,— HERBERT —BEN  NEKE, 33-78 

PEDAGOGIC  VIEWS,  IN  REFERENCE  TO  THE  REQUIREMENTS  OP  THE  AGE.    By  PROP.  J.  H. 

VON  FICHTE,  .........  35 

KARL  VON  RAUMER, 79-368 

CONTRIBUTIONS  TO  PEDAGOGY,    ........  81 

I.    EARLY  CHILDHOOD  AND  YOUTH,      .......81 

II.    HISTORY,  -  -          - 101 

III.  GEOGRAPHY, lit 

IV.  NATURAL  SCIENCE,         .....-.-123 
V.    GEOMETRY,  -          -          -          -          «  -          -          *          -          -153 

VI.    ARITHMETIC,       -          -          -          •          -          -          -  -          -  170 

VII.    PHYSICAL  EDUCATION,         .......          -     185 

VIII.    CHRISTIANITY  IN  PEDAGOGY,       -  •  -  -  -  -  -  218 

LX-    CLASSICAL  INSTRUCTION,      --..-.--      229 
X.  "METHODS  OF  TEACHING  LATIN,  .......          249 

1.  Old  Grammatical  Method,      .......      249 

2.  Speaking  as  in  the  Native  Tongue,  252 

Montaigne, — Locke, — Maupcrtius, — Gesner,       ....      252 

3.  Grammar  evolved  from  Reading, — Interlinear,-  ...  253 

Ratich,— Locke,— Hamilton— Tafel, 253 

4.  Universal  and  other  Methods,      ......  254 

Jacotot, — Ruthardt, — Meierotto, — Jacobs,          -  ...      255 

XI.    SCIENCE  AND  ART,         -.--....    283-29i 
XII.    EDUCATION  OF  GIRLS,          .......          295-368 

RUDOLF  RAUMER, 389-433 

STUDY  OF  THE  GERMAN  LANGUAGE,  --------      373 

F.  ADOLPH  WILHELM  DIESTERWEG, 439 

I.    CATECHISM  OF  METHODS  OF  TEACHING,      -  -  -  •  -  -      445 

1.  Intuitional  Instruction.     By  Diesterweg,  ....  445 

2.  Reading.     By  Hencomp,       ---...-      447 

3.  Arithmetic.     By  Diesterweg,       ......  449 

4.  Geometry.     By  Diesterweg    -  -  -  •  -  -  -      451 

5.  National  History.     By  Hentz,     ------  452 

6.  National  Philosophy.     By  Diesterweg,         -  -  -  -  -      454 

7.  Astronomy.     By  Diesterweg,       --.»-.  455 

8.  Geography.     By  Abbcnrode,  -----.-      459 

9.  History.     By  Abbenroile,  -------464 

II.    GUIDE  FOR  GERMAN  TEACHERS,       --.....      472 

1.  Intuitional  and  Speaking  Exercises.     By  Diestenceg,  473 

2.  Drawing  in  Common,  Schools.    By  Dr.  E.  Hentschel,        ...      491 

3.  Singing  in  Common  Schools.     By  Dr.  E.  Hentschel,    ...  613 

4.  Discipline  in  Schools.    By  Diesterweg,        -  -  -  -  -      541 

G.  A.  RIECKE,        -  559-576 

MAN  AS  THE  SUBJECT  OP  EDUCATION,  -  559 

JOHN  BAPTIST  GRASER,  of  Bayreuth,  -  577-582 

SYSTEM  OF  INSTRUCTION  FOR  COMMON  SCHOOLS,      ......      577 

JOHN  HENRY  WICHERN,  -  ....'.  683-648 

GERMAN  REFORM  SCHOOLS,  .........  589 

INDEX,  -  -  649-65G 

STEIGER'S  LIST  OF  GERMAN  PEDAGOGICAL  WORKS,  ....  1-32 


NATIONAL  EDUCATION. 

EMINENT  TEACHERS  AND  EDUCATORS  OF  THE  SEVENTEENTH  AND  EIGHT- 
EENTH CENTURIES  :  Supplement  to  Volume  II.,  of  Barnard's  National  Edu- 
cation, with  Index.  Pages  865-1264.  Price,  $2.00. 

83^"  VOLUME  II.  of  Barnard's  Comprehensive  Survey  of  "  National  Education 
in  different  countries"  is  devoted  to  systems  of  Elementary  and  Secondary  In- 
struction, with  brief  notices  of  Superior  and  Special  Schools,  in  Switzerland, 
France,  Belgium,  Holland,  Denmark,  Norway,  Sweden,  Russia,  Turkey.  Greece, 
Italy,  Spain  and  Portugal,  in  continuation  of  the  account  of  the  systems  of  the 
several  German  States  as  constituted  in  1866,  in  Volume  I. 


CONTENTS. 


SUPPLEMENT  TO  NATIONAL  EDUCATION,  VOLUME  II 865-1348 

Progressive  Development  of  Popular  Education 865 

SWITZERLAND,  POPULAR  EDUCATION  IN  1871 863 

Extracts  from  William  Hepworth  Dixon's  The  Switzers 867 

SCHOOL  AND  UNIVERSITY  LIFE  IN  THE  ISxn  AND  16m  CENTURIES 877 

Autobiography  of  Thomas  Platter,  1492-1582 877 

Bacchants,  or  Wandering  Teachers,  and  School  Life  in  Switzerland  and  Germany. . .     877 

University  Studies,  Discipline  and  Customs 889 

Deposition— Pennalism — Landsmannsclmften 897 

PROGRESSIVES  OF  THE  I?TH  AND  18TH  CENTURIES 919 

Principles  common  to  all 923 

Special  Notice  of  the  Great  Educational  Reformers 927 

RATICH— Memoir  and  Labors,  1571-1635 * 927 

COMENIUS— Memoir  and  Publications,  1592-1671 955 

LOCKE— Memoir  and  Thoughts  on  Education,  1632-1704 997 

FRANKE— Memoir  and  Orphan-House  at  Halle.  1663-1727 1011 

SEMLER,  HECKER,  HALM,  and  other  laborers  for  Real  Schools,  1669-1778 1029 

Modern  Gymnasium  and  Real  School 1039 

ROUSSEAU— Memoir,  and  his  Ideal  Pupil,  Emile,  1712-1778 1045 

BASEDOW — Memoir,  and  the  Philunthropinum,  1723-1778 1073 

PKSTALOZZI,  FELLENBERO,  KRUSI,  and  other  founders  of  the  modern  Popular  School.  1107 
Principles  and  Methods  applied  in  the  Institutions  at  Burgdorf,  Hofwyl,  and  other 

schools  of  Switzerland 1107 

DIESTERWEQ,  ABBENRODE,  HiNTZE,  HONCAMP,  and  other  prominent  teachers,  after  the 

more  advanced  German  Methodology 1 135 

Methods  and  Discipline 1134 

Intuitional  Instruction 1137 

Reading,  Arithmetic,  Geometry,  Natural  History 1140 

Natural  Philosophy,  Astronomy,  Geography,  History 1146 

Discipline,  Principles,  Rules,  Plan  of  Work 1207 

RAUMER — Contributions  to  the  History  of  Pedagogy 1208 

Arithmetic — old  and  new  methods 1163 

Physical  Culture,  Health,  Hardening  the  Body,  Sharpening  the  Senses,  Gymnastics 1177 

MONITORIAL  SYSTEM — Bell,  Lancaster,  Spurzheirn,  &c 1209 

Historical  Notice  of  the  System 1209 

EDUCATION  FOR  LIFE'. 1241 

Graser's  System  and  Schools 1241 

BURGHER,  OR  CITIZENS'  SCHOOL 1234 

Dr.  Vogel's  School  at  Leipsic 1234 

INDEX  TO  VOLUME  II.  of  Barnard's  National  Education 1249 

CONTENTS  AND  INDEX  of  other  volumes  of  the  Series 1265 

Volume  I.— German  States  (912  pages) 121)5 

Superior  Instruction  in  Europe  (896  pages) 1279 

Military 'System  and  Schools  (960  pages) 1283 

Technical  Schools  (800  pnges) 1297 

CLASSIFIED  INDEX  TO  BARNAND'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION,  Volume  I.  to  XVI.  1201 


INDEX 

TO 

EDUCATIONAL    APHORISMS. 


ABELARD 168 

Actual  life, 129 

/Eschylus, 14,  43,  99 

Andromache, 96 

Anonymous,. .   17,  19,  20,  28,  30,  48,  53,  129, 169 

Antoninus  Pius, 14,  188 

Appetite, 137 

Aretinus 26,110 

Aristotle,. .  40,  42,  43,  74,  75,  76, 79,  95,  9(5, 133, 
145,  157,  102,  187,  194,  197 

Art, .1(55 

Aurelius  Antoninus 44, 132 

Aurelius  Augustinus 133 

Augustine, 51 

Bacon, 47,144,  146,  147 

Basedo wy 78, 179 

Baur, 108,112,114,192 

Bauer,  (E .,) 34,  57,  58 

Beday 63 

Bendtt » 101 

Bhugavad-Gita, 10 

Bible 

Genesis, 9,  24, 166 

Exodus, 92,  93 

Deuteronomy, 166 

Samuel 187 

Psalms 9,69,  147,  166,  167 

Son  of  Sirach 65 

Ecclesiasticus, 93 

Job 147,  151 

Proverbs, 93,  97,  187 

Wisdom  of  Solomon, 9 

Apocrypha— Tobit, 93 

Matthew,  9.  166 

Mark 167 

Luke, 69,  93, 102 

John 10,  93 

Paul 10,  24,  93,  97, 147,  187 

Bohme,  (J.,) 35,  197 

Bouterwek, 17 

Bolingbroke, 153 

Books 15H 

Bretsehneider, 175 

Bruno 16 

Bucbncr,  (Christian,) 70 

Callimnchus 162 

Camne 198 

Chinese 11,65,92.  162,194 

Charron,  (P..) 134 

Cicero 13,  15,  43,  80,  94, 133,  15],  167, 

188,  194,  195,  196 

Channincr,  (W.  E.,) 165 

Character 138 

Chrvsippus 74 

CouMJniui 46,  76,  78,  84,  116,  140 

Confucius, 10,  11,  132,  167 

Czour-Vedam, 10 


Democrinis 125,  139, 161,  163 

Diesterweir, 59 

Diodorus  Sic.ulus 151 

Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  153 

143 

..    187 


Ttaci  pline 
Doederlei  n, 


Early  Training, 


59 


Education,  its  nature  and  value, 38 

Ehren  berg 113 

Epidaurus, 107 

Epicurus, 132 

Epictetus 11,43,  132,  168 

Everhard, 134 

Evangel  of  Nature, 155 

Euripides 169 

Example, 194 

Feelings,  128 

Feilenberg 164 

Female  Education, 96 

Fenelon 105 

Fischer,  (J.  A  ,).  119, 120, 121,  125, 126, 130, 181 

Fichte 29 

Forster 87,  134,  135 

Frederick  (the  Great,) 155 

French  Enclvclopedia,  62 

Froebel,....'. 57,118 

Fries 25 

Fundamental  Impulses 20 

Galen, 76 

Garve, 56 

Geography, 150 

Gizas,..,  73 


Goethe, 20,  90,  100,  106,  113,  161,  175,  199 

Grafe 57.180 

Gruser 55, 58 

Greiling 48 

Greszler,  (F.  G.  L.,) 148 

Greverus, 129 

Hanle 6 

Harnisch, 58 

Haulers, 153 

Hegel 55,  171,  192 

Helvetius, 87 

Hernsterhuis .*. 17 

Herder,.   17,  19,  30, 33,  50, 124, 136, 143,  150, 175 

Hermannz 192 

Heydenreich 21,  30,  49,  134 

Hiackinff...,  .' 92 


Hindoo  Book, 10 

Hippel 72,122 

H  itopadesa, 10 

Home  Education, 75 

Huffel, 37 

Humboldt,  (W.  Von) 20,  100 

Indian  Tnle 40 

Imagination 124 

Impulses  of  Reason, 53 

Intellectual  Culture 116 

Iselin, 68 

Jncobi,  (F.,) 37,  54,  56,  134,  135,  173,  199 

John 182,186 

Juvenal, 194,195 


Kant 48,  100,  135,  137,  191 

Knowing  faculties 116,  135 

Knowing  versus  Action 193 

Kohr 47 

Krause, 73 

Krug 23,  60,  122,  123,  133 


75,173,189     Language 141 


EDUCATIONAL  APHORISMS. 


Lactantius, 168 

Leibnitz, 57,  133,  134,  168 

Livius 151 

Locke, 46, 161 

Lucian, 59,151 

Luther, Ifi,  45,  67,  68,  78,  81,  84,  83,  85, 

95,  98,  134, 137,  141,  147,  152, 
163,  183, 188,  190,  191,  197. 

Man,  as  the  Subject  of  Education, 9 

Mangelsdorf, 122 

Marie  Louise  Wilhelmine, 18 

MelanctKon, 152 

Memory, 126 

Mencke 103 

Menu,  Laws  of, 10 

Mendelssohn, 36,  48 

Michaelis, 91 

M  ilton 1 64 

Montaigne, 43,  46,  87, 152, 171 

Moral  Training, 166 

Moris 24 

Moscherosch,. . . ...  71,  84,  95,  99,  104, 190,  198 

Moses  Maimonides, 133 

Music, 162 

Musonius, 14 

Nabbe, 37 

Napoleon  Bonaparte, 48 

Nature, 165 

Natural  Science, 148 

Niemeyer, 52,  56,  62,  67,  72,  109,  111,  117, 

118,  119,  120,  121,  124,  126,  128,  130, 
131,  132,  136,  138,  144,  149,  150,  156, 
157,  158,  160,  161,  164,  173,  176,  184, 
185,  197,  198,  199,  200. 

Obedience, 92 

Object  Teaching, 117 

Oezer, 106 

Parents  and  Teachers, 65, 190 

Perception, . ; 116 

Perictione, 94 

Persius, 14 

Pestalozzi, 50,  88,  150,  175,  182 

Petrarch, 134 

Physical  Education, 75 

Philosophy,  Natural, 157 

Philemon, 14 

Philo, 51 

Philosophic  de  la  Nature 48 

Plato,...  12,  38,  43,  76,  78,79,  94,  114, 139,  141, 

157,  162,  167, 170, 194 

Plautus, 65 

Pliny, 151 

Plutarch, 39,  40,  42.  66,  77,  8J,  1 18,  127, 

133,  159,  188,  194,  195 

Poetry, 153, 161 

Poleitz 153 

Pythagoras,.  11,  12,  38,  42,  81,  96,  132,  162,  166 

auinctilian 39,  42,  74,  75,  81,  85,  94,  127, 

133,  151,  188,  195 

Raumer 104,  105,107,114,115,179 

Reading, 160 

Recreation, 189 

Reason, 11, 132 

Reinhard, 63 

Religious  Training, 131, 166 

Richter, 27,  50,  97,  101, 104,  119,  ]27,  132, 

154,  164, 177,  178,  179,  199 

Ringwald, 95 

Robbelen, 148 

Rotteck, 61,  91 


Rousseau, 68,80,90,  131,  19 

Rudolphi,  (Caroline.) 109 

Rueckert, 11,  73,  110,  177,  178,  179,  199 

Saadi 166 

Senses, 116 

Sai  !er 125 

Schelling, 36,  49 

Scherer 63 

Sch  losser, 139 

Schiller,...   16,  26,  50,  98, 100,  102, 110,  123,  128 
136,  196,  153,  163 

Schlenkert,  (F.  L.,) 17 

Schleiermacher, 101,  112 

Schmid,  (C.  C.  E.,) 49,  56 

Schneuber, 47 

Schottin,  30 

Schmid,  (Karl,) 52 

Schwabe, 73,  193 

Schwarz 35,  53,  165 

Schroder 90 

Schrack 156 

Schubert, 27 

Seneca,.  13,  15,  39.  42,  61,  69, 8t,  82,  94,  95,  133, 
145,  151,  158,  159,  189,  194,  196 

SiaoHio, 92 

Simonides, 14,  153 

Socrates 77,93,168,  169,  187 

Solon, 76,  94 

Soldan 100 


State  Lexicon, 61,91 

Starke, 34 

Stoy 59,  90,  181,  193 

Stoics 43 

Sturm 169 

Subjects  and  Means  of  Instruction 140 

Tegner 144,  179 

Temperament, 138 

Terentius, 14,65 

Tetens, 22 

Tetzner, ; 88 

Theano 44 

Thomson 153 


Thibaut 115 

Thucydides, 96 

Tischer 58,  149,  171,  172,  176 

Tittemnn, 155 

Tschuchi, 10 

Understanding,  or  thinking  faculty, 121 

Uz,.. 21 


Valerius  Maximus, 65 

Von  Ammon, 24,  54,  68,  140,  200 

Von  Dulberg, 36 

Von  Haller, .   ,   22 

Von  Gentz, 62 

Voss .  25,  48 

Virtue, 10, 132 

Wngner 137 

Weikard, 50,  87 

Wieland, 50 

Will 137 

Wohlfarth,  (J.  F.  T.,) 5 

Young, 27 

Zaleueus, 167 

Zschokke,..  21,  22,  32,  33,  51,  95,  102,  105, 108, 

109,  112,  113,  142,  160,  169,  172, 

173,  174,  177, 199. 

Zenophon, 40 

Zollikofer 36 

Zoroaster, 10, 11,  167, 179 


PESTALOZZI  AND  HIS  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM. 

PESTALOZZI  AND  PESTALOZZIANISM  : — Memoir,  and  Educational  Princi 
pies,  Methods,  and  Influence  of  John  Henry  Pestalozzi,  and  Biographical 
Sketches  of  several  of  his  Assistants  and  Disciples ;  together  with  Selec- 
tions from  his  Publications.  In  Two  Parts.  By  HENKY  BAKNAKD,  LL.D. 
New  York :  E.  STEIGER. 

CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 
LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OP  PESTALOZZI. 

Portrait  of  Pestalozzi, ......•! 

Preface, • 3 

INTRODUCTION.    Influence  of  Pestalozzi  on  the  aims,  principles,  and  methods  of  popular 

education, 11 

Influence  on  Reformatory  Education.     By  Dr.  Blochmann,         ....        -  11 

Influence  on  tlie  Sch'ls  and  Educational  Methods  of  Germany.     By  Dr.  Diesterweg,  16 
Summary  of  Pestalozzi's  Principles  of  Education.     By  William  C.  VVoodbridge, 

Influence  on  the  Infant  School  System  of  England,            3? 

LIFE  OF  PESTALOZZI.    By  Karl  von  Raumer, 37 

Preface,    ....-••-••••••-••  41 

I.  Childhood  and  Youth,  1746-1T67, 49 

II.  Agricultural  and  Educational  Experiments  at  Neuhof,  1767,     ....        -  56 

III.  The  Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit,  1780, 69 

IV.  Leonard  and  Gertrude,  1781. 62 

V.  Life  and  Writings  between  1781  and  1798. 65 

VI.  Experience  at  Stanz,  1798, 68 

VII.  "               Burgdorf,  1799-1804, 71 

VIII.  "               Buchsee,  1804, 87 

IX.  "               Yverdun,  1805, 87 

X.  Last  Years,  1815-1827, 115 

XI.  Relations  to  Christianity, 116 

XII.  Retrospect, 123 

APPENDIX.     By  the  American  Editor, 127 

Celebration  of  Pestalozzi's  Centennial  Birth-day  in  Germany  and  Switzerland,      -  129 

List  of  Publications  by  Pestalozzi, 139 

List  of  Publications  in  different  languages  on  Pestalozzi  and  his  Educational  Prin- 
ciples and  Methods, 142 

BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCHES  of  several  of  the  assistants  and  disciples  of  Pestalozzi.   -       •  145 

Preface, 149 

I.  Johannes  Niederer,        ......•••....  151 

II.  Hermann  Kriisi, 161 

III.  Johannes  Buss, 193 

IV.  Joseph  Schmid. 202 

V.  John  (ieorge  Tobler. 205 

VI.  John  Ramsauer,       ' 213 

VII.  John  Ernst  Plamann, 217 

IX.  Hans  George  Nageli, 220 

X.  Johannes  Harnisch, « 221 

XI    Karl  Augustus  Zeller. 223 

XII.  Charles  Christian  Wilhelm  von  Turk, •        •  1M 

yill.  Bernhard  Gottlieb  Denzel. £>7 

XIV.  Friedrich  Adolf  Wilhelm  Diestervveg, 229 

Gustavus  Frederick  Diiiter,      •       «•••••••••  232 

PART  II. 

SELECTIONS  FROM  THE  PUBLICATIONS  or  PESTALOZZI.  -       ....  .    515 

Prefac«, ---....517 

I.  Leonard  and  Gertrude, ;  a  Book  for  the  People.   -        -        -        -        .        -        -        .    519 

IT.  The  School  in  Bonnnl,      ..........  _         p5j 

ITT.  Christopher  and  Alice,          -------.-.._    (5^5 

IV.  How  Gertrude  Teaches  her  Children,         -  .........         (j^g 

V.  Account  of  his  own  Educational  Experience,,       -««»..        ..fi7 

VT.        "  "        "      Method  of  Instruction,        -«---...        074 

VIT.  A  Christmas  Eve  Discourse,  December  24th,  1810,      .......    703 

VT1I.  New- Year's  Address,  1809,      -        ....  .....        712 

IX.  Address  on  his  Seventy-third  Birthday,        -  .....  -715 

X.  Paternal  Instruction,  ...  ....  720 

XI.  Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit,  ...  .  .  .    733 

PART  III.  * '        i 

PUBLIC  INSTRUCTION  IN  SWITZERLAND,         --•«•«  .  313 

Fellenberg,  Vehrli,  Kuratli  and  other  Swiss  Educators,         -  ,       .  .    239 


ENGLISH  PEDAGOGY — OLD  AND  NEW  :  or,  Treatises  and  Thoughts  on 
Education,  the  School,  and  the  Teacher  in  English  Literature.  Second 
Series.  Republished  from  Barnard's  American  Journal  of  Education. 
628  pages.  $3.00.  1873. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

INTRODUCTION 1-16 

CONTENTS  AND  INDEX  OF  FIRST  SERIES, 3 

ART.  I.  WILLIAM  OP  WYKEHAM  AND  THE  PUBLIC  SCHOOLS 17-128 

1.  WILLIAM  OF  WYKEHAM,  Bishop  and  Chancellor— 1324-1404 19 

2.  PUBLIC  OR  ENDOWED  SCHOOLS 23 

3.  ST.  MARY'S  COLLEGE,  Winchester— 1387-1865 49 

4.  REPORT  OF  ROYAL  COMMISSIONERS  ON  THE  GREAT  PUBLIC  SCHOOLS 81 

5.  ACTION  OF  PARLIAMENT  AND  COMMISSIONERS 118 

II.  DEAN  COLET,  AND  ST.  PAULS  SCHOOL,  London 129-160 

III.  CARDINAL  WOLSEY  —  1471-1530 161-164 

PLAN  OF  STUDIES  FOR  IPSWICH  GRAMMAR  SCHOOL,  1528 161 

IY.  SIR  THOMAS  ELYOT.— 1497-1535 165-178 

THE  GOVERNOR,  or  Training  for  the  Public  Weal,  1564 107 

Y.  RICHARD  MULCASTER.— 1531-1611 179-190 

POSITIONS  respecting  the  Training  of  Children,  1581 179 

VI.  JOHN  BRINSLY — WEBSTER — CHRISTOPHER  WASE 185-190 

VII.  CHARLES  HOOLE.— 1616-1666 191-324 

OBJECT  TEACHING  AND  PICTORIAL  ILLUSTRATIONS,  1661 192 

THE  NEW  DISCOVERY  OF  THE  OLD  ART  OF  TEACHING,  1658 195 

THE  PETTY  SCHOOL 195 

THE  GRAMMAR  SCHOOL 223 

SCHOLASTIC  DISCIPLINE 293 

VIII.  ABRAHAM  COWLEY.— 1618-1677 325-336 

PLAN  OF  A  PHILOSOPHICAL  COLLEGE,  1661 325 

IX.  ALEXANDER  POPE— ROBERT  SOUTH — SIR  RICHARD  STEELE.  ..  337-346 

THOUGHTS  ON  EDUCATION 337 

X.  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.— 1731-11 74 347-358 

ESSAY  ON  EDUCATION 347 

XL  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.— 1708-1784 359-364 

PLAN  OF  STUDIES  AND  DETACHED  THOUGHTS 359 

XII.  SAMUEL  PARR.— 1747-1825 365-368 

CHARITY  SCHOOL  SERMON 365 

XIII.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  19TH  CENTURY 369-455 

THOMAS  K.  ARNOLD.— 1795-1842 369-410 

MEMOIR  AND  EDUCATIONAL  LABORS 369 

DETACHED  THOUGHTS  ON  STUDIES  AND  EDUCATION 417-544 

1.  TEMPLE— IJOWE— GLADSTONE— DONALDSON— HODGSON 417 

MARTINE AU— VAUGHAN— DE  MORGAN— MULLKR— SMITH 448 

2.  FARADAY— HERSCHEL— WHEWELL— HAMILTON 449 

3.  ACLAND— AIRY— HENFREY— HOOKER— HUXLEY 465 

LYELL— OWEN— PAGET—TYNDALL— WILSON 481 

4.  MILL — FROUDE — CARLYLE,  on  University  Studies 497 

5.  MACAULAY— NEWMAN,  on  the  University  of  Books  and  Life 529 

XIV.  ART  AND  SCIENCE  IN  ENGLISH  EDUCATION 545-592 

XV.  MECHANIC  INSTITUTIONS  AND  POPULAR  EDUCATION 593-628 


GERMAN  TEACHERS  AND  EDUCATORS. 

GERMAN  EDUCATIONAL  REFORMERS;  Memoirs  of  Eminent  Teachers  and  Edu- 
cators in  Germany,  from  the  Fourteenth  to  the  Nineteenth  Century,  with  con- 
tributions to  the  History  of  Education  from  the  Revival  of  Classical  Learning. 
From  the  " Geschichte  der  Padagogik"  of  Karl  von  Raumer.  Republished  from 
"The  American  Journal  of  Education,"  edited  by  HENRY  BARNARD,  LL.  D. 
586  pages.  New  York:  E.  STEIGEB. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

Preface, 7 

Memoir  of  Karl  von  Raumer, 9 

I.  INTRODUCTION.    Revival  of  Classical  Literature  in  Italy, 17 — 64 

1.  The  Middle  Ages— Condition  of  Studies,  Teaching  and  the  Arts 17 

2.  Dante,  Boccaccio,  Petrarch 28 

3.  Greek  Scholars  from  Constantinople,  John  of  Ravenna,  Chrysoloras, 35 

4.  Italian  Teachers— Guarino,  Philelphus,  Poggius,  Valla,  Landinus,  Politianus,  Picus,    49 

5.  Transition  to  Germany, 62 

n.  DEVKLOPMKNT  OF  EDUCATION  IN  THE  NETHERLANDS  AND  NORTHERN  GERMANY,.  65—130 

1.  Gerard  of  Daventer — Radewin — Gerard  of  Zutphen — The  Hieronymians, 65 

2.  Wessel— Rudolph  Agricola — Hegius — Lange — Busch, 72 

3.  Erasmus, 89 

4.  School  of  Schlettstadt-Dringenberg— Wimpheling— Reuchlin, 101 

APPENDIX.     Condition  of  Schools  and  Teachers  in  the  Sixteenth  Century, 113 

Autobiography  of  John  Platter ;  A-B-C-shooters  and  Bacchants, 125 

III.  THE  PERIOD  OF  THE  REFORMATION, 131—266 

1.  Martin  Luther, 131 

2.  Philip  Melancthon 161 

3.  Valentine  Friedland  Trotzendorf, 185 

4.  John  Sturm 193 

5.  Michael  Neander, 193 

6.  Ignatius  Loyola  and  the  Schools  of  the  Jesuits, 229 

7.  The  Early  School  Codes  of  Germany, 251 

1.  Dutchy  of  Wirtcmberg;  2.  Electorate  of  Saxony, 257 

8.  The  Universities  of  the  Sixteenth  Century, 261 

IV.  REALISM, 267-334 

1.  Verbal  Realism — Erasmus— Melancthon...... 267 

2.  Real  Realism— Influence  of  Lord  Bacon's  Philosophy, 273 

3.  Real  Schools.     Hecker,  Halm,  Semler  ;  Modern  Development  of  Realistic  Instruction,  302 

4.  Michael  Montaigne, 317 

V.  THE  RENOVATORS,  OR  PROGRESSIVES, 335 — 520 

1.  New  Ideas  and  Methods  of  Education, 335 

2.  Wolfgang  Ratich, 343 

3.  John  Amos  Comenius, 371 

4.  Schools  and  Education  in  Periods  of  Peace  and  War, 413 

1.  The  Thirty  Years'  War ;  2.  The  Century  after  the  Peace  of  Westphalia, 416 

5.  John  Locke  and  Influence  of  his  Pedagogy  on  German  Education, 427 

6.  Augustus  Hermann  Franke,  and  the  Pietists, 441 

7.  Jean  Jaques  Rousseau  and  his  Influence  on  the  Philanthropinists, 459 

8.  The  Philanthropinum  at  Dessau, ' 487 

John  Bernhard  Basedow, 487 

VI.  THE  REFORMATORY  PHILOLOGISTS, 521—574 

1.  Johann  Mathias  Gesner, 521 

2.  John  August  Ernesti, 530 

3.  Johann  Georg  Hamann, 533 

3.  Johann  Gotfried  Herder, 547 

4.  Friedrich  August  Wolf, 561 

VII.  PESTALOZZI  AND  THK  COMMON,  OR  PEOPLE'S   SCHOOLS, 575 — 586 


NATIONAL  EDUCATION. 


AN  ACCOUNT 


HISTORY,     ORGANIZATION,     ADMINISTRATION,     STUDIES,    DISCIPLINE    AND 

STATISTICS  OF  PUBLIC  SCHOOLS  OF  EVERY  GRADE  AND  FOR 

ALL  CLASSES  IN  DIFFERENT  COUNTRIES. 


BY    HENRY    BARNARD,    LL.D. 


NOW  BEADY. 

Elementary  and  Secondary  Instruction  in  the  German  States  :  Anhnlt,  Austria,  Baden,  Bava- 
ria, Brunswick,  Hanover,  Hesse-Casse),  Hesse- Darmstadt,  Liechtenstein,  Lippe-Detmold,  Lippe- 
Schaumburg,  Luxemburg  and  Limberg,  Mecklenburg-Schwerin,  Mecklenburg-Strelit/,  Nassau, 
Oldenburg,  Prussia,  Reuss,  Saxony,  Saxe-Altenburg,  Saxe-Coburg,  Saxe-Meiningen,  Saxe-Wei- 
mar,  Waldeck,  Wurtemberg,  and  the  Free  Cities,  vwith  a  general  summary  of  the  Educational 
Systems  and  Statistics  for  the  whole  of  Germany.  850  pages.  Price,  $4.50.  Sewed  and  in 
paper  covers. 

Elementary  and  Secondary  Instruction  in  Switzerland  (each  of  the  23  Cantons),  France,  Bel- 
gium, Holland,  Denmark,  Norway  and  Sweden,  Russia,  Turkey,  Greece,  Italy,  Portugal  and 
Spain.  800  Pages.  Price,  $4,50.  Sewed  and  in  paper  covers. 

Scientific  and  Industrial  Education  in  Austria,  Baden,  Biivnria,  Brunswick,  Free  Cities,  Hnn- 
over,  Nassau,  Prussia,  Saxony,  Saxon-Principalities,  Wnrtemberg,  France,  Belgium,  Hollandi 
Denmark,  Norway,  Sweden,  Russia,  Switzerland,  Italy.  800  Pages.  Price,  $4.50. 

Special  Instruction  in  Great  Britain,  with  an  Appendix  containing  selected  Chapters  from 
the  Report  on  Scientific  and  Industrial  Education  in  other  European  States  with  particular  refer- 
ence to  Drawing,  and  Systems  of  Technical  Schools.  500  Pages.  Price,  $3.00. 

Superior  Instruction  in  different  countries:  Universities  of  Germany,  Past  and  Present; 
History  of  Higher  Teaching  in  Athens,  Rome,  and  Alexandria ;  Early  Christian  Schools ;  Uni- 
versities of  Bologna  and  Paris;  Revival  of  Classical  Studies  in  Italy,  the  Netherlands,  &c. ; 
Present  Condition  of  Universities  and  Colleges  in  Europe  and  the  United  States.  1  Volume. 
800  pages.  $4.50. 

Military  Schools  and  Special  Instruction  in  the  Science  and  Art  of  War  by  Land  and  Sea, 
in  France,  Prussia,  Austria,  Bavaria,  Italy,  Switzerland,  Russia,  Great  Britain,  and  the  United 
States.  1  Vol.  9GO  pages.  $4.50. 


CLASSIFIED  INMX 


TO 

BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 

VOLUMES    I.    TO    XVI. 

CLASSIFICATION  OF  SUBJECTS. 

I.  General  Principles  and  History  of  Education.  XI.  Education.^  the  Deaf  and  Dumb,  Blind,  Idiots,  &c. 

II.  Individual  Views  and  Special  Systems  of  Education.  XII.  Moral  and  Religious  Education  ;  Sectarian  Schools 

III.  Studies  and  Methods  of  Teaching;  School  Organiza-  and  Instruction. 

tion  and  Government.  XIII.  Female  Education. 

IV.  Teachers  and    their  Training ;   Normal    and    Model  XIV,  Physical  Education. 

Schools;  Teachers'  Institutes.  XV.  Supplementary,  Self,  and  Home  Education;  Libra- 

V.  State  and  National  Systems  of  Instruction.  ries. 

VI.  Secondary,    Intermediate,    Academical,    and     High  XVI.  Educational  Societies  and  Teachers'  Associations. 

Schools.  XVII.  Philology  and  Bibliography  ;  School-books  and  Peri- 

VII.  University  and  Collegiate  Education.  odicals,  &c. 

VIII.  Special   Schools  and  Departments  of  Science,  Arts,  XVIII.  School  Architecture. 

Agriculture,  Museums,  &c.  XIX.  Educational  Endowments  and  Benefactors. 

IX.  Military  and  Naval  Education.  XX.  Miscellaneous. 

X.  Preventive  and  Reformatory  Education.  XXI.  Educational  Biography  and  List  of  Portraits. 


18 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


CHAPTER  I.    GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  AND  HISTORY  OF  EDUCATION. 


EDUCATION  defined  by  Eminent  Authorities;  English, 
XI.  U-20 ;  Greek,  Roman,  French,  German,  Scotch 
and  American,  XILT.  7-16. 

Educational  Aphorisms  and  Suggestions,  from  Two 
Hundred  Authorities,  Ancient  and  Modern. — Man, 
his  Dignity  and  Destiny,  VILT.  9.  Nature  and 
Value  of  Education,  VILT.  38.  Duties  of  Parents 
and  Teachers,  VHI.  65.  Early  Home  Training, 
Vm.  75-80;  XLU.  79-92.  Female  Education 
XIII.  232-242.  Intellectual  Culture  in  General, 
X.  116.  Subjects  and  Means  of  Education,  X.  141, 
Religious  and  Moral  Instruction,  X.  166.  Disci- 
pline, X.  187.  Example,  X.  194-200.  The  State 
and  Education,  XLU.  717-624. 

Education,  Nature  and  Objects  of— Prize  Essay,  by 
John  Lalor,  XVI.  33-64. 

Education  for  the  Times,  by  T.  M.  Clark,  LT.  375. 

Education  u  State  Duty,  by  D.  B.  Duffield,  LLT.  81. 

Education  and  the  State ;  Aphorisms,  XLTL  717-724. 
Views  of  Macaulay  and  Carlyle,  XIV.  403.  Amer- 
ican Authorities,  XI.  323 ;  XV.  5. 

Education  Preventive  of  Crime  and  Misery,  by  E.  C. 

Tainsch,  XI.  77-93. 

Home  Education— Labors  of  W.  Burton,  LT.  333. 

Intellectual  Education,  by  William  Russell.— The 
Perceptive  Faculties,  LI.  113-144,  317-332.  The 
Expressive  Faculties,  LTI.  47-64,  321-345.  The 
Reflective  Faculties,  IV.  199-218,  309-342. 

Lectures  on  Education,  by  W.  Knighton,  X.  573. 

Misdirected  Education  and  Insanity,  by  E.  Jarvis,  IV. 
591-612. 

Moral  and  Mental  Discipline,  by  Z.  Richards,  I.  107. 

Objects  and  Methods  of  Intellectual  Education,  by 
Francis  Waylnnd,  XILT.  801-816. 

Philosophy  of  Education,  by  Joseph  Henry,  I.  17-31. 

Philosophical  Survey  of  Education,  by  Sir  Henry 
Wotton,  XV.  131-143. 

Problem  of  Education,  by  J.  M.  Gregory,  XTV.  431. 

Powers  to  be  Educated,  by  Thomas  Hill,  XIV.  81-92. 

Self-Education  and  College  Education,  by  David  Mas- 
son,  IV,  262-271. 

Thoughts  on  Education,  by  Locke;  Physical,  XI. 
461 ;  Moral,  XILT.  548 ;  Intellectual,  XIV.  305. 

Views  and  Plan  of  Education,  by  Kriisi,  V.  187-197. 

Unconscious  Tuition,  by  F.  D.  Huntington,  I.  141-163. 

Schools  as  they  were  Sixty  Years  Ago  in  United 
States,  Xm.  123,  837  ;  XVI.  331,  738;  XVLT. 

Progressive  Development  of  Schools  and  Education 
in  the  United  States,  XVII. 

History  of  Education,  from  the  German  of  Karl  von 
Raumer,  IV.  149*  History  of  Education  in  Italy. 
VII.  413-460.  Eminent  Teachers  in  Germany  and 
the  Netherlands  prior  to  the  Fifteenth  Century,  IV. 
714.  Schlettstadt  School,  V.  65.  School  Life  in 
the  Fifteenth  Century,  V.  79.  Early  School  Codes 
/'  of  Germany,  VI.  426.  Jesuits  and  their  Schools, 
V.  213;  VI.  615.  Universities  in  the  Sixteenth 
Century,  V.  536.  Verbal  Realism,  V.  655.  School 


Reformers  at  Beginning  of  Seventeenth  Century, 
VI.  459.  Thirty  Years'  War,  and  the  Century 
Following,  VII.  367.  Real  Schools,  V.  689.  Re 
formatory  Philologists,  V.  741.  Home  and  Privnte 
Instruction,  VLI.  381.  Religious  Instruction,  fH. 
401.  Methods  of  Teaching  Latin,  VI.  581.  Meth- 
ods of  Classical  Instruction,  VII.  471.  Methods  of 
Teaching  Real  Branches,  VIII.  101-228.  German 
Universities,  VI.  9-65;  VII.  47-152.  Student  So- 
cieties, VLI.  it>o. 

Educational  Development  in  Europe,  by  H.  P.  Tappan, 
I.  247-268. 

Hebrews,  and  their  Education,  by  M.  J.  Raphall,  I. 
243. 

Greek  Views  of  Education,  Aristotle,  XIV.  131 ; 
Lycurgus,  and  Spartan  Education,  XTV.  611; 
Plutarch,  XI.  99. 

Roman  Views  of  Education,  Quintilian,  XL  3. 

Italian  Views  of  Education  and  Schools,  Acquavivn, 
XIV.  462;  Boccaccio,  VLT.  422;  Botta,  ILL  513; 
Dante  and  Petrarch,  VLT.  418;  Pictis,  Politian, 
Valla,  Vittorino,  VLI.  442;  Rosmini,  IV.  479. 

Dutch  Views  of  Education,  Agricola,  IV.  717;  Busch 
and  Lange,  IV.  726;  Erasmus,  IV.  729;  Hierony- 
mians,  IV.  622;  Reuchlin,  V.  65;  Wessel,LV.  714. 

French  Views  of  Education  and  Schools,  Fenelon, 
XLU.  477;  Guizot,  XI.  254,  357;  Marcel,  XI. 
21;  Montnigne,  IV.  461;  Rabelais,  XIV.  147; 
Rousseau,  V.  459  ;  La  Salle,  LLL  437. 

German  Views  of  Education,  Abbenrode,  IV.  505, 
512;  Basedow,  V.  487;  Comenius,  V.  257;  Dies- 
terweg,  IV.  235,  505;  Dinter.  VLI.  153;  Felbiger, 
IX.  600 ;  Fliedner,  LTL  487 ;  Franke,  V.  481 ; 
Graser,  VI.  575;  Gutsmuths,  VLT.  191;  Hamann, 
VI.  247;  Hentschel,  VLTI.  633;  Herder,  VI.  195 ; 
Jacobs,  VI.  612;  Jahn,  VLLL  196;  Luther,  IV. 
421;  Meinotto,  VI.  609;  Melancthon,  IV.  741; 
Neander,  V.  599;  Overberg,  XLTI.  365;  Ratich, 
V.  229;  Raumer,  VLI.  200,  381;  VIII.  101;  X. 
227,  613;  Ruthardt,  VI.  COO;  Sturm,  IV.  167,  401; 
Tobler,  V.  205;  Trotzendorf,  V.  107;  Von  Turk, 
V.  155 ;  Vogel,  IX.  210 ;  Wolf,  VI.  260. 

Swiss  Views  of  Education,  Fellenberg,  LTI,  594; 
Kriisi,  V.  189;  Pestalozzi,  TTT.  401;  VLI.  513; 
Vehrli,  LU,  389. 

English  Views  of  Education,  Arnold,  IV.  545 ;  As- 
cham,  IV.  155;  Bacon,  XLLI.  103;  Bell,  X.  467; 
Colet,  XVI,  657 ;  Elyot,  XVI.  485 ;  Hale,  XVLI. 
Hartlib,  XL  191 ;  Goldsmith,  XLTI,  347 ;  John- 
son, XLI.  369;  Lalor,  XVI.  33;  Lancaster  and 
Bell,  X.  355;  Locke  VI.  209;  XL  461;  XLLT. 
548 ;  Masson,  IV.  262 ;  XLV.  262 ;  Milton,  LI.  61 ; 
Mulcaster,  XVLT.  177 ;  Spencer,  XL  445 ;  Sedg- 
wi.'k,  XVII. ;  Temple,  F.,XVLT.  5  Whewell.W., 
XVLT. 

Early  Promoters  of  Realism  in  England,  XLT.  476. 
Bacon,  V.  663  ;  Cowley,  XLT.  651 ;  Iloole,  XLT. 
647  ;  Petty,  XI.  199. 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


19 


II.    INDIVIDUAL  VIEWS  AND  SPECIAL  SYSTEMS  OF  EDUCATION. 


Abhenrode.    On  Teaching  History  and  Geography, 

IV.  505,  512. 
Abl.ot,   G.    D.,  and  the   Useful   Knowledge  Society, 

XV.  241.     Educational  Labors,  XVI.  600. 
Aekland,  Henry  W.     Natural  Science  and  Physical 

Exercise  in  Schools,  XVII. 

Acquaviva,  and  the  Ratio  Studiorum,  XIV.  462. 
Adams,  John.     Education  and  the  State,  XV.  12. 
Adams,  J.  a.     On  Normal  Schools,  I,  589.     Educa- 
tion and  the  State,  XV.  12.     Educational  Reform 

in  Silesia,  XVLT. 

Addison,  Joseph.     Education  and  Sculpture,  XI.  16. 
Adelung,  J.  C.     Philological  Labors,  XI.  451. 
Agassiz,  L.  Museum  of  Comparative  Zoology,  IX.  615. 
Agricola,  Rudolf.     Life  and  Opinions,  IV.  717. 
Airy,  G.  B.     Mathematics  and   Natural   Science   in 

Schools,  XVLT. 

Akerly,  S.     Deaf-mute  Training,  HI.  348. 
Akroyd,  E.     Mode  of  Improving  a  Factory  Popula- 
tion, VLTI.  305. 

Albert,  Prince.  On  Science  and  Art,  IV.  813. 
Alcott,  A.  Bronson.  School-days,  XVI.  130. 
Alcott,  William  A.  Educational  Views,  IV.  629. 

Plan  of  Village  School,  IX.  540. 
lllyn,  Robert.    Schools  of  Rhode  Island,  H.  544. 
Anderson,  H.  J.     Schools  of  Physical  Science,  I.  515. 
Andrews,  I.  W.     Educational  Labors,  XVI.  604. 
Andrews,  L.     Educational  Labors,  XVI.  604. 
Andrews,    S.    J.     The   Jesuits    and    their    Schools, 

XIV.  455. 
Anthony,  H.     On  Competitive  Examinations  at  West 

Point,  XV.  51. 
Aristotle,   nnd   his   Educational   Views,   XIV.    131. 

Cited,  HI.   45;    IV.   4f>3;    V.   673;    VII.   415; 

Vm.  40-79 ;  X.  132-195. 
Arnold,   Matthew.      Tribute    to    Guizot,    XI.    281. 

Schools  of  Holland,  XIV.  712. 
Arnold,  Thomas,  as  a  Teacher,  IV.  545-581. 
Ascham,     Roger.      Biographical    Sketch,    HI.     23. 

Toxophilus;    the   Schoole  of  Shootinge,  LTI.   41. 

The  Schoolmaster,  IV.  155 ;  XI.  57. 
Ashburton;   Lord.      Prize   Scheme   and   Address   on 

Teaching  Common  Things,  I.  629. 
Austin,  Sarah.     Ends  of  a  Good  Education,  XI.  20. 
Aventinus.     Study  of  German,  XI.  162. 

Bache,   A.  D.     On   a  National  University,  I.   477. 

Education  in  Europe,  VIII.  435,  444,  455,  564,  609; 

IX.    167,  210,   569;    XLT.   337;  XLTI.  303,  307. 
Bacon,  Leonard.     Life  of  James  Hillhouse,  VI.  325. 
Bacon,  Lord.     His  Philosophy  and  its  Influence  upon 

Education,    V.   663.     Essays    on   Education,    and 

Studies,  with  Annotations  by  Whately,  XIH.  103. 
Bailey,   Ebenezer.     Memoir,  XLT.  429.     Girls'  High 

School  in  Boston  in  1828,  XILT.  252. 
Baker,  T.  B.  L.     Reformatory  Education,  HI.  789. 
Baker,  W.  S.     Itinerating  School  Agency,  I.  729. 
Bauks,  N.  P.     Museum  of  Zoology,  IX.  619. 


Bard,  Samuel.     Schools  of  Louisiana.  LT.  473. 

Barnard,  D.  D.  Right  of  State  to  establish  Schools, 
XI.  323.  Membir  of  S.  Van  Rensellaer,  VI.  223. 

Barnard,  F.  A.  P.  Improvements  in  American  Col- 
leges, I.  269.  Influence  of  Yale  College,  V.  723. 
Memoir,  V.  753-780.  Titles  and  Analysis  of  Publi- 
cations, V.  763-769.  Value  of  Classical  Studies, 
V.  763.  Open  System  of  University  Teaching,  V. 
765.  Post-graduate  Department,  V.  775.  Oral 
Teaching,  V.  775. 

Barnard,  H.  Educational  Labors  in  Connecticut  from 
1837  to  1842,  I.  669;  Speech  in  Legislature  in  1838, 
678;  Address  to  the  People  of  Connecticut,  670; 
Analysis  of  First  Report  in  1839,  674 ;  Expenditures 
for  School  Purposes.  679;  Measures  and  Results, 
685;  Schedule  of  Inquiries,  686;  Topics  of  School 
Lectures,  709 ;  Plan  of  State  Institute,  721.  Labors 
in  Rhode  Island  from  1843  to  1849,  I.  723 ;  XIV. 
558;  Institute  of  Instruction,  559;  Series  of  Educa- 
tional Tracts,  567;  Educational  Libraries,  568; 
Correspondence  with  Committee  of  Teachers,  579. 
Labors  in  Connecticut  from  1850  to  1854,  XV.  276 ; 
Plan  of  Public  High  School,  279;  Public  and  Pa- 
rental Interest  and  Cooperation,  285;  Legal  Organi- 
zation of  Schools,  289;  School  Attendance,  293; 
Agricultural  Districts,  303;  Manufacturing  Districts, 
305;  Cities,  309; 'Gradation  of  Schools,  316;  Pri- 
vate versus  Public  Schools,  323;  Teachers'  Insti- 
tutes, 387.  Arguments  for,  VILT.  672.  Normal 
Schools,  I.  753;  X.  15.'  Plan  of  Society,  and  Jour- 
nal and  Library  of  Education,  I.  15,  134.  Princi- 
ples and  Plans  of  School  Architecture,  I.  740;  IX. 
487 ;  X.  695 ;  XII.  701 ;  XLH.  818 ;  XIV.  780 ; 
XV.  783 ;  XVI.  781.  National  Education  in  Eu- 
rope, I.  745;  XV.  329.  Reports  and  Documents 
on  Common  Schools  in  Connecticut,  I.  754,  761. 
Reports  and  Journal  of  Public  Schools  in  Rhode 
Island,  I.  755.  Tribute  to  Gallaudet,  I.  417,  759. 
Memoir  of  Ezekiel  Cheever,  I.  297,  769.  Reforma 
tory  Schools  and  Education,  HI.  551,  819.  Mili- 
tary Schools  and  Education,  XH.  3-400.  Naval 
and  Navigation  Schools,  XV.  17,  65.  Competitive 
Examination,  XL  103.  Educational  Aphorisms, 
VHI.  7 ;  XLH.  7,  717.  German  Universities,  VI. 
9;  VH.  49,  201.  Books  for  the  Teacher,  XHI. 
447.  German  Educational  Reformers,  XHI.  448. 
American  Text-books,  XIH.  209,  401,  628 ;  XIV. 
753;  XV.  539.  English  Pedagogy,  XVI.  467; 
Object  Teaching  and  Primary  Instruction  in  Great 
Britain,  469.  Pestalozzi  and  Pestalozzianism,  VH. 
284,  502.  National  and  State  Educational  Associa- 
tions, XVI.  311 ;  American  College  Education,  339. 
Standard  Publications,  XVI.  797;  Progressive  De- 
velopment of  Education  in  the  United  States, 
XVH|  Educational  Land  Grants,  XVH. 

Barnard,  J.     School-days  in  1689,  I.  307. 

Barnard,  J.  G.  Treatise  on  the  Gyroscope,  HI  537 ; 
IV.  529;  V.  298. 


20 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


Barney,  II.  H.     Schools  of  Ohio,  H.  531. 

Barrow,  Istinc.     Education  defined,  XI.  13. 

Basedow,  and  the  Philanthropinuni,  V.  487-520. 

Butemtin,  N.     Educational  Labors,  XVI.  165. 

Bates,  S.  P.  On  Liberal  Education,  XV.  155.  Me- 
moir, XV.  682. 

Bates,  W.  G.     On  Training  of  Teachers,  XVI.  453. 

Becker,  K.  L.    Study  of  Language,  XII.  460. 

Beecher,  Miss  C.  E.  Physical  Training,  II.  399. 
Western  Education,  XV.  274.  » 

Beecher,  Henry  W.     School  Reminiscences,  XVI.  135. 

Bell,  Andrew,  and  the  Madras  System,  X.  467. 

Benedict,  St.,  and  the  Benedictines,  XVII. 

Beneke,  F.  E.     Pedagogical  Views,  XVH. 

Bernhardt.     Teachers'  Conferences,  XILI.  277. 

Berranger.    Training  of  Orphan  Children,  III.  736. 

Bingham,  Caleb.     Educational  Labors,  V.  325. 

Bishop,  Nathan.  Public  Schools  of  Boston,  I.  458. 
Girls'  High  School  of  Boston,  XI.  2C3.  Plans  of 
Providence  School-houses,  XI.  582.  Memoir, 
XVII. 

Blockman,  Dr  Pestalozzi's  Poor  School  at  Neuhoff, 
in.  585. 

Boccaccio,  arrd  Educational  Reform  in  Italy,  XII. 
418. 

Podleigh.  Sir  T.     On  Travel,  XV.  380. 

Bolingbroke.     Genius  and  Experience,  XI.  12. 

Booth,  Rev.  J.  Popular  Education  in  England,  HI, 
252,  265.  Competitive  Examination,  IH.  257. 

Borgi,  Jean,  and  Abandoned  Orphans,  HI.  583. 

Botta,  V.  Public  Instruction  in  Sardinia.  HI.  513; 
IV.  37,  479. 

Bowen,  Francis.    Life  of  Edmund  Dwight,  IV.  5. 

Braidwood,  J.     Education  of  Deaf-mutes,  HI.  348. 

Bniinerd,  T.  Home  and  School  Training  in  1718, 
XVI.  331. 

Braun,  T.     Education  defined.  XIH.  10. 

Breckenridge,  R.  J.     Schools  of  Kentucky,  H.  488. 

Brinsley,  J.    Consolations  for  Grammar  Schools,  I.  311. 

Brockett,  L.  P.  Idiots  and  their  Training,  I.  593. 
Institutions  and  Instruction  for  the  Blind,  IV.  127. 

Brooks,  Charles.  Best  Methods  of  Teaching  Morals, 
I.  336.  Education  of  Teachers,  I.  587. 

Brooks,  K.     Labors  of  Dr.  Wayland,  XIH.  771. 

Brougham,  Lord.  Life  and  Educational  Views,  VI. 
467.  Education  and  the  State,  XIII.  722.  Train- 
ing of  the  Orator,  and  Value  of  Eloquence,  XVI.  187. 

Brown,  Thomas.    Education  defined,  XIII.  13. 

Brownson,  O.  A.    Education  defined,  XIH.  12. 

Buckham,  M.  H.  English  Language  in  Society  and 
School,  XIV.  343.  Plan  of  Study,  XVI.  595. 

Buckingham,  J.  T.     Schools  as  they  were,  XIH.  129. 

Bulkley,  J.  W.     Teachers'  Associations,  XV.  185. 

Burgess,  George.  Thoughts  on  Religion  and  Public 
Schools,  H.  562. 

Burke,  Edmund.    Education  defined,  XL  17. 

Bnrrowes,  T.  H.  Reports  on  Pennsylvania  Schools, 
VI.  114,  556.  History  of  Normal  Schools  in  Penn- 
sylvania, XVI.  195. 

Burton,  W.  District-school  as  it  was,  HI.  456.  Me- 
moir, XVI.  330. 


Bushne!l,  Horace.  Early  Training,  XHI.  79.  Pas- 
times, Plays,  and  Holidays,  XIH.  93.  Homespun 
Era  of  Common  Schools,  XIH.  142.  The  State 
and  Education,  XHI.  723. 

Buss,  J.,  and  Pestalozzianism,  VI.  293. 

Byron,  Lady.     Girls'  Reformatory  School,  HI.  785. 

Cody,  L.  F.    Classical  Instruction,  XH.  561. 
Caldwell,   Charles.      Education    in   North    Carolina, 

XVI.  109. 

Calhoun,  W.  B.    Memorial  on  Nor.  Sch.,  XVI.  86. 
Calkins,  N.  A.    Object  Teaching,  XH.  633. 
Carlyle,   T.      Education    defined,   XHI.    13.      The 

State  and  Education,  XIV.  406.    Reading,  XVI. 

191.     University  Studies,  XVII. 
Carpenter,  Mary.     Reformatory  Education,  HI.  10, 

785. 

Carpenter,  VV.  B.     Physical  Science  and  Modern  Lan- 
guages in  Schools,  XVII. 
Carter,  J.  G.    Life  and  Services,  V.  409.     Essay  on 

Teachers'  Seminaries,  XVI.  71.    Memorial,  XVI. 

80. 

Cecil,  Sir  William.     Advice  to  his  Son,  IX.  161. 
Channing,   W.   E.      Teachers   and  their   Education, 

XH.  453.     End  of  Education,  XHI.  15. 
Chauveau,  P.  J.  O.     Education  in   Lower   Canada, 

H.  728. 
Cheever,  Ezekiel.     Memoir  and  Educational  Labors, 

XII.  531. 

Cheke,  Sir  John.    HI.  24. 
Chesterfield,  Lord.     Advice  to  his  Son,  XVH. 
Choate,  Rufus.    The  Peabody  Institute,  I.  239. 
Christian  Brothers,  System  of.    HI.  347. 
Cicero.     Cited,  VHI.  13,  14,  43,  79;   X.    133,    151, 

167,  194-196;  XH.  409. 
Clajus,  and  the  German  Language.  XI.  408. 
Clark,  H.  G.     On  Ventilation,  XV.  787. 
Clark,  T.  M.     Education  for  the  Times,  H.  376. 
Claxton,  T.    First  Manufacturer  of  School  Apparatus, 

VIH.  253. 

Clay,  John.    Juvenile  Criminals,  HI.  773. 
Clerc,  Laurent.    HI.  349. 

Clinton,  DeWitt.     Education  of  Teachers,  XHI.  341 
Cocker,  E.     Methods  of  Arithmetic,  XVII. 
Coggesholl,  W.  J.     Ohio  System  of  Public  Schools 

VI.  81,  532. 
Colburn,  Dana  P.     Memoir  and  Educational  Work 

XI.  289. 

Colhurn,  Warren.    Educational  Work,  H.  194. 
Cole,  David.     On  Classical  Education,  I.  67. 
Coleridge,  D.     St.  Marks'  Normal  College,  X.  531. 
Coleridge,  S.  T.     The  Teacher's  Graces,  H.  102. 
Colet,    John.      Educational    Views    and    Influence, 

XVI.  657. 
Collis,  J.  D.     Endowed  Grammar  Schools  of  England, 

VHI.  256. 
Colrnan,   Henry.      Agricultural  School  at  Grignon 

VHI.  555. 

Comenius,  Amos.     Educational  Labors,  V.  257-298. 
•     Orbis  Pictus,  VI.  585. 
Confucius.    Cited,  VHI.  10,  11 ;  X.  132,  167. 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD  S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


21 


Coote,  Edward.     The  English  Schoolmaster,  I.  309. 
Courteilles,  Viscount  de,  and  the  Home  Reformatory, 

HI.  572,  647,  704. 
Cousin,   V.     School  System  of  Holland,  VLLT.   598. 

School  Law  of  Prussia,  IX.  382.     Normal  Schools, 

XIII.  2s-j. 
Coutts,  Miss   Burdett.     Prize   Scheme  for  Teaching 

Common  Things,  LI.  708. 
Cowdery.  M.  F.     Moral  Training,  XVI.  323. 
Cowley,  A.     Plan  of  Philosophical  College,  XLT.  651. 
Cowper,  William.    The   Tirocinium,  or   Review  of 

Schools,  VLTI.  469.     Discipline,  VIII.  489. 
Crahbe,  George.     Schools  of  the  Borough,  IV.  582; 

m.  46i. 

Crosby,  Alpheus.     Massachusetts  Schools,  LT.  508. 
Currie,  James.     Methods   of  Early   Education,  IX, 

229-293. 

Curtin,  A.  G.     Schools  of  Pennsylvania,  LT.  541. 
Cuvier,  Baron.     Schools  of  Holland,  VIII.  597,  607. 

Dana,  J.  D.     Science  and  Scientific  Schools,  LI.  349. 

Dante,  and  the  Revival  of  Education  in  Italy,  VLT. 
418. 

Darlington,  W.    Schools  as  they  were,  XLTL  741. 

Dawson,  J.  W.  Natural  History  in  its  Educational 
Aspects,  LLT.  428. 

Day,  Henry  N.     English  Composition,  XVI.  641. 

Duy,  Jeremiah.     On  Schools  as  they  were,  XVI.  126. 

Degerando,  Baron.     Monitorial  Methods,  X.  465. 

De  La  Salle,  Abbe.  Memoir,  and  System  of  Chris- 
tian Schools,  HI.  437. 

De  Laspe.  Method  and  Motive  of  Instruction,  VLLT. 
180. 

Delille,  James.    The  Village  Schoolmaster,  LLT.  153. 

Demetz,  M.  Agricultural  Colonies,  I.  611 ;  LLT.  572, 
667. 

De  Morgan.     Arithmetics  and  the;r  Authors,  XVLT. 

Dick.    Bequest,  I.  392. 

Diesterweg.  Methods  of  Teaching,  TV.  233,  505. 
School  Discipline  and  Plans  of  Instruction,  VLTI. 
616.  Intuitional  and  Speaking  Exercises,  XLT. 
411. 

Dinter,  G.  F.  Memoir  and  Educational  Labors,  VII. 
]53;  XIV.  738.  Defense  of  Catechetical  Method, 
IX.  377. 

D'Israeli,  I.     Influence  of  Books  and  Authors,  LT.  226. 

Doane,  G.  W.    The  State  and  Education,  XV.  5. 

Dole,  Isaiah.  Requirements  in  an  English  Lexicogra- 
pher, LTI.  161.  Mary  Lyon,  X.  649. 

Donaldson,  J.  W.  University  Teaching,  XVI. 
Competition  Tests,  XVII.  German  and  English 
Scholarship  compared,  XVLT. 

Ducpetiaux,  M.  Reports  on  Reform  Schools,  LLT. 
677,  597,  599,  604,  716,  749. 

Dnffield,  D.  B.     Education  a  State  Duty,  HI.  81. 

Dunn,  FI.  Organization  and  Instruction  of  the  Bor- 
ough Road  Schools,  X.  381-459. 

Dunnell,  M.  H.  Report  on  the  Schools  of  Maine,  LT. 
495. 

Dwight,  Edmund.    Memoir  TV  •"> 

Dwight,  Francis.     Educational  Labors.  V.  803 


Dwight,  Mary.     Art   Education,  LT.  409,  587;    TIT. 

467;  IV.  171;  V.  305. 
Dwight,  Timothy,  as  an  Educator,  V.  567. 

Eaton,  H.     School-houses  of  Vermont,  XL  510. 

Eberhard.  J.  J.  Rural  Reformatory  School  at  Casa, 
LTI.  599. 

Edgeworth,  Maria.  Extract  from  Practical  Educa- 
tion, XII.  602. 

Edson,  T.  Warren  Colburn  and  his  System  of  Arith- 
metic, LT.  294. 

Edwards,  N.  W.  Report  on  Schools  of  Illinois,  LT. 
479. 

Edwards,  Richard.  Memoir  of  Tillinghast,  LT.  568. 
Normal  Schools,  XVI.  271. 

Elgin,  Lord.  Education  m  the  United  States  and 
Canada,  LTI.  239. 

Eliot,  Samuel.     Arnold  as  a  Teacher,  IV.  535. 

Eliot,  S.  A.  Educational  Benefactions  of  Boston, 
VLLT.  522;  IX.  606.  History  of  Harvard  College, 
IX,  129. 

Elyot,  Sir  Thomas.    The  Governour,  XVI.  483. 

Emerson,  G.  B.  Educational  Labors,  V.  417.  Me- 
morial on  State  Superintendent,  V.  652.  Memorial 
on  Normal  Schools,  XVI.  93.  Life  of  Felton,  X. 
265.  Plan  of  School-houses,  IX.  542. 

Epictetus.     Cited,  VLLT.  11,  42;  X.  132,  168. 

Erasmus.    Educational  Views,  IV.  729;  XVI,  68], 

Euclid,  and  the  Method  of  Geometry,  VLTI.  155. 

Everett,  Alexander  H.     Normal  Schools,  XVI.  89. 

Everett,  Edward.  Uses  of  Astronomy,  LT.  604.  John 
Lowell  and  the  Lowell  Lectures,  V.  437.  Influence 
of  Harvard,  V.  531.  Boston  Library,  VLT.  266, 
365.  Female  Education,  IX.  635 ;  XII.  721.  Ex- 
tracts from  Addresses — Public  Schools  Fifty  Years 
Ago — College  Life — Common  Schools  and  Colleges 
— Conditions  of  a  Good  School — Science  and  Popu- 
lar Education— Moral  Education — Popular  Educa- 
tion—VLT.  343;  XV.  14.  Life  of  Thomas  Dowse, 
IX.  355. 

Faraday,  M.     Claims  of  Natural  Science  in  a  Liberal 

Education.  XVLT. 
Feibiger,  J.  I.     Educational  Labors  in  Austria,  IX, 

600. 
Fellenberg.     Principles   of  Education,  ILL  594;  X. 

81 ;  XILT.  11,  523. 
Felton,  C.  C.     Characteristics  of  American  Colleges, 

IX.  112.     Memoir  and  Extracts,  X.  265. 
Fenelon.    Memoir  and  Educational  Views,  XILT.  477. 
Feuerbach,  L.    Intuition  and  Thinking  in  Education, 

XLT.  4-J2. 
Fichte.     On  Learning  by  Heart,  XLT.  416.    Physical 

Culture,  VLTI.  192.    Cited,  VLLT.  29,  620. 
Fletcher,  J.    Borough  Rood  Normal  School,  X.  435- 

465. 
Fliedner.    Institution  for  Deaconesses  at  Kaiserswerth, 

LTI.  487. 
Follenius,   Karl.    Relations  to   Karl   Ludvvig   Sand, 

VL  111,  125. 
Forbes,  E.     Educational  Uses  of  Museums.  IV.  788 


22        CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


Fowle,  W.  B.     Memoir  and   School  Improvements, 

X.  600. 

Francke,  A.  H.    His  Views  and  Labors,  V.  441. 
Franklin,  B.     His  Interest  in  Higher  Education,  VII, 

268;  Vm.251;  X,  283. 

Friesen,  F.,  and  the  German  Gymnastics,  VHt,  197- 
Froebel,  and  the  Kindergarten  System,  H,  449 ;  IV, 

257,  793. 
Fuller,  Thomas.    The  Good  Schoolmaster,  m.  155. 

Gallaudet,  T.  H.  Life  and  Services,  I.  425.  Educa- 
tion of  Teachers,  X.  16. 

Galloway,  Samuel.  Teachers'  Institute,  XV,  401. 
Memoir,  XVI.  583. 

Gammell,  W.     Memoir  of  Nicholas  Brown,  m.  291. 

Gardner,  Francis.     Boston  Latin  School,  XII.  553. 

Garfield,  J.  A.     Department  of  Education,  XVII. 

Gerard-Groote,  and  the  Hieronymians,  IV.  623. 

Gesner,  J.  M.     Educational  Views,  V.  741 ;  VI.  583. 

Gibbs,  J.  W.  Philological  Contributions,  H.  198; 
HI.  101-124. 

Gilfillan.     The  Scotch  School-dame,  HI.  456. 

Gillespie,  W.  M.  Mathematical  Methods  of  the  Ecole 
Polytechnique,  I.  533;  II.  177. 

Gilman,  D.  C.  Scientific  Schools  of  Europe,  I.  315. 
Higher  Special  Schools  of  France,  H.  93. 

Gladstone,  W.  E.  The  Classics  in  a  Liberal  Educa- 
tion, XVII. 

Goethe.  Educational  Views,  VEX  20,  619,  648 ;  X. 
51,  161,  199,  225,  617,  621. 

Goldsmith.  Essay  on  Education,  XHI,  347.  The 
Village  Schoolmaster,  m.  158. 

Goodrich,  S.  G.     Schools  as  they  were,  Xm.  134. 

Goodwin,  F.  J.    Norwich  Free  Academy,  TTT.  195. 

Gordon,  John.     Normal  Schools  of  Scotland,  X.  583. 

Gottsched,  J.  C.    German  Grammar,  XI.  447. 

Gould,  B.  A.     An  American  University,  H.  265-293. 

Graser.     System  of  Instruction,  VI.  575. 

Gray,  Thomas.  Alliance  of  Education  and  Govern- 
ment, VIII.  287.  Ode  on  Eton  College,  VH[.  285. 

Green,  L.  W.  Normal  Schools  for  Kentucky,  m. 
217. 

Green,  S.  S.  Educational  Duties  of  the  Hour,  XVI. 
229.  Object  Teaching,  XVI.  245. 

Gregory,  J.  M.  The  Problem  of  Education,  XIV. 
431-5.  Memoir,  XV.  643. 

Grimke,  T.  S.    Plan  of  Study,  H.  230. 

Grimm,  the  Brothers.    XI.  454. 

Grimshhaw,  A.  H.     Schools  of  Delaware,  11.  474. 

Griscom,  John.  Memoir  and  Educational  Labors, 
Vm.  324. 

Grote,  J.     Education  defined,  XI.  18. 

Guilford,  Nathan.     Educational  Labors,  VIII.  289, 

Guizot.  Ministry  of  Public  Instruction  in  France,  XI. 
254,  357.  The  State  and  Education,  XIII.  718. 

Gulliver,  J.  P.     Norwich  Free  Academy,  H.  665. 

Guts-Muths.  System  of  Physical  Truining,  VHI.  191. 
Training  of  the  Senses,  VIII.  207. 

Haddock,  C.  B.  School-houses  in  New  Hampshire, 
IX.  512. 


Hale,  R.     Continental  Reformatories,  HI.  642,  744. 
Hale,  Sir  Matthew.     Plan  of  Study,  XVII. 
Hall,  E.  E.     Life  of  Edward  Everett,  VII,  325. 
Hall,  S.  R.     Educational  Labors,  V.  373.     Teachers' 

Seminary  nt  Andover  V.  386. 
Hall,  W.    On  Schools  as   hey  were,  XVI.  127. 
Halsey,  L.  J.     Life  of  Philip  Lindsley,  VII.  9. 
Hamann,  J.  G.     Educational  Views,  VI.  247. 
Hamilton,  J.,  and  the  Hamiltonian  Method.  VI.  5B6. 
Hamilton,    Sir    W.     Education     defined,    XI.    18; 

XIII.  13.     On  Mathematics,  XVII. 
Hammill,  S.  M.     School  Government,  I,  123. 
Hammond,  C.     On  N.  England  Academies,  XVI.  403. 
Harnisch.     Cited,  VIII,  58.     Plan  of  Instruction  fo: 

Annaberg  Orphan  House,  VEX  437. 
Harris,  James.     Education  a  Growth,  XI.  16. 
Hart,   J.   S.     Study   of  the   Anglo-Saxon,  I.   33-66. 

Memoir  and  Views,  V.  91. 
Hartlib.     Plan  of  College  of  Husbandry  in  1681,  XI. 

191,  649.     Memoir,  XII.  649. 
Haskins,  G.  F.     Reformatory  School  at  Rome,  HI. 

580. 

Haupt.    The  Burschenschaften  of  the  German  Uni- 
versities, VH,  161. 
Haiiy,  V.,  and  the  Instruction  of  the  Blind,  HI.  477; 

IV.  130. 

Haven,  Joseph.     Mental  Science  as  a  Study,  HI.  125. 
Hawley,  Gideon.     Memoir  and  Labors,  XI.  94. 
Hedge,  N.     On  Schools  as  they  were,  XVI.  738. 
Hedge.     On  University  Reform,  XVII. 
Hegius.     Educational  Views,  IV,  723. 
Helps,  Arthur.     Learning  and  Doing,  XI.  18. 
Henfrey,  A.     Study  of  Botany,  XVII. 
Henry,  Joseph.     Philosophy  of  Education,  I.  17. 
Hentschel,  E.     Singing,  VIII.  633 ;  Drawing,  X.  59. 
Herbert,  J.  F.     Pedagogical  Views,  XVH. 
Herder.     Life  and  Educational  Views,  VI.  195. 
Herschel,  Sir  J.  F.  W.     On  Reading,  XVII. 
Heyder,  W.     Address  at  Jena  in  1607,  VI.  56. 
Hickson,  E.   H.    The  State  and  Education,   XHL 

718. 

Hill,  M.  D.     Preventive  Treatment  of  Crime,  HI.  766. 
Hill,  Thomas.    True  Order  of  Studies,  VI.  180,  449; 

VII.  273,  491.     Powers  to  be  Educated,  XIV.  81. 

Didactics  in  Colleges,  XV.  177. 
Hillard,  G.   S.     Public  Library  of  Boston,  H.   203. 

The  State  and  Education,  XV.  14. 
Hillhouse,  James  A.     Education  and  Literature  in  a 

Republic,  XVII. 

Hintz,  E.    Natural  History,  IV.  241. 
Hobbs,  Thomas.     Knowledge  and  Experience,  XI.  14. 
Hodgins,  J.  G.     Popular  Education  in  Canada,  I.  186 
Holbrook,  J^osiah.    The  Lyceum  System,  XIV.  535 

Educational  Labors,  VIH.  229. 
Holls,  G.  C.     Family  Reform ntories,  IV.  824. 
Honcamp.      Instruction  in  Rending,  IV.  234;   Lan- 
guage, XII.  482. 

Hood,  Thomas.  '  The  Irish  Schoolmaster,  IV.  183. 
Hooker,  J.     Study  of  Botany  in  Schools,  XVI,  403. 
Hooker,  Richard.     Knowledge  of  and   Obedience  to 

Law,  XT   13 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


23 


Hoole,  C.,  and  Object  Teaching  in  1658,  XII.  647. 
Old  Art  of  Teaching,  XVII. 

Hopkins,  Mark.  Memoir  and  Educational  Publica- 
tions, XI.  225.  Extracts— Education— Self-educa- 
tion— Female  Education — Academies— Medical  Sci- 
ence— Theological  Education — Objections  to  Col- 
leges—Taste and  Morals— XI.  225-231. 

Hornberg,  T.     Thoughts  on  the  Education  of  Girls, 

vin.  319. 

Hovey,  C.  E.     Memoir  and  Labors,  VILT.  94. 
Howe,  S.  G.     Laura  Bridgman's  Education,  IV.  383. 

Summary  of  Labors,  XI.  389. 
Hubbs,  P.  K.     Schools  of  California,  II.  467. 
Hubbard,   J.   O.    Normal    Schools    in    New    York, 

XIII.  345. 
Humphrey,    Heman.     Normal    Schools,    XH.    655. 

Schools  as  they  were,  XIII.  125. 
Huntington,  F.    D.     Unconscious   Tuition,  I.    141. 

Public  Prayers  in  Colleges,  IV.  22. 

Ickelsamer,  V.,  and  the  German  Language,  XI.  402. 
Ingraham,    J.     Plan   of  Primary    School-house,  X, 
719. 

Jackson,  W.  L.    Schools  of  Virginia,  H.  557. 

Jacobs,  F.    Method  of  Teaching  Latin,  VI.  612. 

Jacotot,  I.,  and  his  Method,  VI.  295 ;  XII.  604. 

Jahn,  F.  L.  German  Turning  System  and  Physical 
Education,  VII.  19G;  XV.  229. 

Jameson,  Mrs.  Social  Position  and  Occupations  of 
Woman,  HI.  495. 

Jarvis,  E.  Misdirected  Education  and  Insanity,  IV. 
591. 

Jay,  John.    Education  and  the  State,  XV.  13. 

Jefferson,  T.     The  State  and  Education,  XV.  12. 

Jerome,  St.     On  Female  Education,  V.  593. 

Jewell,  F.  S.    Teaching  as  a  Profession,  XV.  579. 

John  of  Ravenna.     Educational  Views,  VH.  435. 

Johnson,  Samuel.  Thoughts  on  Education  and  Con- 
duct, Xm.  359. 

Johnson,  W.  R.    Educational  Labors,  V.  799. 

Julius,  Dr.    Normal  Schools  in  Prussia,  XVI.  89. 

Kant.  Cited,  V.  504;  Vm.  28,  48;  X.  135,  137, 
191,  641 ;  XIII.  13. 

Kay,  J.  P.  Training  of  Parochial  Schoolmasters,  IX. 
170. 

Kay,  Joseph.  Subjects  and  Methods  of  Primary  In- 
struction, VIII.  416.  Position  of  Prussian  Teach- 
ers, XI.  169.  Normal  Schools  in  Saxony,  XIII. 
524. 

Keenan,  P.  J.  Monitorial  System  in  Ireland,  X.  462; 
Xm.  150.  School  Organization,  XIH.  145. 

Kepler.    Estimate  of  Euclid,  VHI.  159. 

Kingsbury,  John.  Young  Ladies'  High  School  at 
Providence,  V,  16. 

Kingsley,  J.  L.    Discourse  on  Yale  College,  V.  541. 

Kliipfel.   History  of  Tiibingen  University,  IX.  57. 

Knight,  Charles.     Economical  Science,  IX.  105. 

Knighton,  W.     Educational  Lectures,  X.  573. 

Krug.    Cited,  Vm.  23,  60 ;  X.  122,  123,  133. 


Kriisi.     Life  and  Educational  Labors,  V.  161-186. 
Kuratli,  M.    Reform  School  at  Bachtelen,  ITT.  596. 

Lactantius.     Cited,  X,  168. 

Lalor,  J.    Nature  and  Objects  of  Education,  XVI. 

33-64. 

Lancaster,  Joseph,  and  Monitorial  Schools,  X.  355. 
Landor,  W,  S.     Roger  Ascham  and  Lady  Jane  Grey, 

in.  39. 

Lange,  R.     Educational  Labors,  IV.  726. 

Lathrop,  J.    Boston   Association  of  Teachers,  XV. 

530. 
Leach,  Daniel.     Public  Schools  of  Providence,  I.  46S. 

Plan  of  School-houses,  IX.  563. 
Leibnitz.    Cited,  VIH.  57;  X.  133,  134,  168. 
Leigh,  Lord.     Reformatory  Results  of  Mettray,  HI. 

731. 
Lewis,  Dio.    The  New  Gymnastics,  XI.  531 ;  XII. 

665. 
Lewis,  Tayler.     Methods  of  Teaching  Greek    and 

Latin,  I.  285,  489. 
Lieber,  F.     The  Cooper  Institute,  I,  652.     History  of 

Atheneums,  H.  735. 
Lindsley,  Philip.    Memoir  and  Views  of  Education, 

vn.26. 

Ling,  H.,  and  the  Swedish  Gymnastics,  XV.  236. 
Lloyd,  Robert.     The  School  Usher,  HI.  160. 
Locke,     John.     Views     on     Education,     VI.     209. 

Thoughts  on   Education,   XL   461;    XILT.  548; 

XIV.  305.     School  of  Labor,  TTT.  577. 
Locke,  W.    Ragged  Schools,  HI.  779. 
Longstreet.     School  Scene  in  Georgia,  XVI.  121. 
Lord,  A.  D.     Plan  of  School-house,  IX.  562.     Edu- 
cational Labors,  XVI.  607. 
Lothrop,  S,  K.    W.  Lawrence  and  the  Academies  of 

New  England,  H.  33. 

Lovell,  John.     Eulogy  on  Peter  Faneuil,  IX.  604. 
Loyola,  and  his  Society  and  System,  V.  213 ;  XIV. 

455. 

Lubinus.     Grammatical  Instruction,  VT.  581. 
Luther.    Views  on  Education,  IV.  421-449.     Physical 

Culture,  VIII.  190.    Cited,  Vm.  15,  78,  356;  X. 

137,  141,  151,  163,  183,  191. 
Lycurgus,  and  Education  among  the  Spartans,  XIV. 

611. 
Lyell,  Sir  Charles.    Physical  Science  in  a  Liberal 

Education,  XVII. 
Lyon,   Mary.    Principles  of  Mt.  Holyoke  Seminary, 

X.670. 
Lytton,  Sir  E.  B.    Address  at  School  Festival,  HI. 

259. 

Macaulay,  Lord  T.  B.  The  State  and  Education, 
XIII.  721;  XIV.  403.  Competitive  Examina- 
tions for  East  India  Service,  XVII. 

Madison,  James.     The  Stnte  and  Education,  XV.  12. 

Mansfield,  E.  D.  The  Military  Academj  at  West 
Point,  XTTT  17-48. 

Marcel^  C.    Conversational  Method,  XI.  21,  330. 

March,  F.  A.     Study  of  English  Language,  XVI.  599 

Marion,  General.    On  Free  Schools,  XVI.  119. 


24        CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


Mann,  Horace.  Teachers'.  Motives,  XIV.  277.  Col- 
lege Government,  HI,  65.  Special  Training  a  Pre- 
requisite to  Teaching,  XIII.  507.  Methods  of  Ed- 
ucation in  Germany,  VHI.  382.  Results  of  Normal 
Schools  in  Prussia,  VIII.  361.  Analysis  of  Reports, 
V.  623.  Plan  of  District  School-house,  IX  642. 
Estimate  of  S.  G.  Howe,  XL  389.  Education  de- 
fined, XIII.  16.  The  State  and  Education,  XIII. 
724 ;  XV.  13.  Normal  Schools,  XVI.  100. 

Mason,  S.  W.    Physical  Exercise  in  Schools,  XIV.  61. 

Masson,  D.  College  and  Self-education,  IV.  262. 
Milton's  Home,  School,  and  College  Training,  XIV. 
159-190. 

Mathews,  J.  D.  Report  on  Schools  of  Kentucky,  H. 
493. 

Mny,  S.  J.  Life  and  Views  of  Cyrus  Peirce,  IV.  275. 
Educational  Labors,  XVI.  141. 

Mayhew,  Ira.  School-houses  of  Michigan,  IX.  515. 
Educational  Labors,  XV.  651. 

McElligott,  J.  N.  Debating  as  a  Means  of  Educa- 
tional Discipline,  I.  495. 

Meierotto.  Method  of  Teaching  Latin,  VI.  609. 
Physical  Culture,  VIII.  191. 

Meiring.     On  the  Hamiltonian  System,  VI.  592. 

Melancthon.  Life  and  Educational  Services,  IV. 
741-764. 

Memminger,  C.  G.  Schools  of  South  Carolina,  n. 
553. 

Mill,  John  Stuart.  State  and  Education,  XIH.  721. 
University  Education,  XVII. 

Mills,  Caleb.     Report  on  Schools  of  Indiana,  H.  480. 

Milton.  Treatise  on  Education,  H.  61.  Education 
defined,  XI.  12.  The  State  and  Education,  X]H. 
719.  His  Home,  School,  and  College  Training, 
XIV.  159. 

Molineux,  E.  L.  Physical  and  Military  Exercises  in 
Schools  a  National  Necessity,  XI.  513. 

Montaigne.    On  Learning  and  Education,  IV.  461. 

Montucla.     Elements  of  Euclid,  VHI.  156. 

More,  Sir  Thomas.  The  State  and  Education,  XIIE. 
719.  Education  of  his  Children,  XVII. 

Morrison,  T.  Manual  of  School  Management,  IX, 
294.  Oral  Lessons,  IX.  321. 

Moscherosch.    Cited,  VIII.  71 ;  X.  190,  198. 

Moseley,  Canon.  Tripartite  System  of  Instruction, 
IX.  316.  English  Training  Colleges,  X.  543-670; 

Mulcaster,  R.     Positions,  XVII. 

Muller,  Max.     French  and  German  in  Public  Schools, 

XVII. 

Neander,  Michel.    Educational  Labors,  V.  599. 
Niebuhr,  B.  S.     Letter  to  a  Student,  XVI.  215. 
Niebuhr,  J.,  and  Pestalozzi,  VII.  289. 
Niemeyer.    Cited,  VILE.  52,  56,  61,  67,  71 ;  X.  118. 
Nieuvenhuysen,  and  the  Society  for  the  Public  Good 

in  Holland,  XIV.  641. 
Nissen,  H.    Public  Schools  in  Norway,  VIII.  295. 

Oberlin,   John    Friedrich.    The  Practical   Educator, 

V.  505 ;  XVH. 
Oelinger,  Albert,  and  the  Study  of  German,  XI.  406. 


Olmsted,  Dennison.  Democratic  Tendencies  of  Sci- 
ence, 1. 1G4.  Ideal  of  a  Teacher ;  Timothy  Dwight 
V.  567. 

Osgood,  S.  G.  Address  at  Dedication  of  School- 
house,  Xm.  848. 

Overberg,  B.     Educational  Views,  X]H.  365. 

Oven,  R.     Natural  History  in  Public  Schools,  XVII, 

Page,  D.  P.     Memoir  and  Processes  of  Teaching,  V. 

819.     Education  defined,  XIH.  14. 
Paget,  J.     Physiology,  XVII.  119. 
Paley,  Dr.     Education  defined,  XI.  15. 
Palmerston,  Lord.    Popular  Education,  H.  712. 
Park,   Prof.     The   School    of  Locality,   XVI.   331. 

Memoir  of  B.  B.  Edwards,  XIV.  381. 
Parr,  Samuel.     Principles  of  Education,  XI.  17. 
Partridge,  Alden.    Educational  Views,  XIII.  54,  f>83. 
Pattison.    On  Prussian  Normal  Schools,  XVI.  395. 
Paulet.     System  of  Monitorial  Instruction,  X.  464. 
Payson,  T.    Boston   Association   of  Teachers,   XV, 

533;  X.464. 

Peabody,  George.     Public  Library  of  Baltimore,  TTT, 
Peel,  Sir  R.     Study  of  Classics,  XVII. 

226.     Educational  Benefactions,  XVII, 
Peet,  H.  P.     New  York  Institution  for  the  Deaf  and 

Dumb,  HI.  347.     Memoir,  III.  366. 
Peirce,  B.  K.     Reformatory  for  Girls,  XVI.  652. 
Peirce,  Cyrus.    Ideal  of  Education,  IV.  285.     Normal 

Schools,  IV.  306. 
Perkins,  G.   R.    Labors   in  Normal  Schools,  XTTT, 

544. 

Perry,  Gardner.     On  School-houses,  IX.  520. 
Perry,  W.  F.     Schools  of  Alabama,  n.  465. 
Pestalozzi.     Life  and  Educational  System,  m.  401 ; 

IV.  65.     Pestalozzi  and  the  Schools  of  Germany, 
IX.  343.     Pestaloz/i,  Fellenberg,  and  Wehrli,  X. 
81.    Poor  School  at  Neuhof,  III.  585.     His  Assist- 
ants and  Disciples,  VII.  285.     Hundredth  Birthday, 

V.  503.     Publications  by  and  relating  to,  VII.  513. 
Selections    from    his   Publications,  VII.   519-722. 
Evening  Hours   of  a  Hermit,  VI.  169.     Leonhard 
and  Gertrude,  VII.   519.     Christopher  and   Alice, 
VII.  665.     His  Account  of  his  Educational  Expe- 
rience and  Methods,  VII.  671. 

Petrarch,  and  Education  in  Italy,  VIE.  424. 

Petty,  Sir  W.     Plan  of  a  Trades  School,  1647,  XI.  199. 

Peurbach,  G.     Method  of  Arithmetic,  VIII.  170. 

Phelps,  W.  F.  Normal  Schools,  HI.  417.  Educa- 
tional Labors,  V.  7. 

Philbrick,  J.  D.  On  the  National  Teachers'  Associa- 
tion, XIV.  49.  Extracts  from  Reports,  H.  261. 
Report  on  Schools  of  Connecticut,  H.  469.  Plans 
of  School-houses,  X.  740;  XVI.  701. 

Phillips,  J.  H.    Schools  of  New  Jersey,  H.  517. 

Picket,  A.    Teachers'  Association,  XV.  493. 

Pierce,  Benjamin.    On  a  National  University,  H,  88. 

Pierpont,  J.     Public  High  School  for  Girls,  XIII.  244. 

Pitt,  Earl  of  Chatham.     Studies  and  Conduct,  XVII. 

Plato.  Cited,  IV.  166;  VHI.  11,  43,  76-78;  X. 
141,  157,  162,  167,  170,  194;  XI.  101,  105;  XII. 
409;  XIII.  8. 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION.       25 


Plutarch.  Views  of  Education,  XI.  99-110.  Cited, 
Vm,  77;  X.  118-195. 

Poggius,  and  Education  in  Italy,  VII.  442. 

Porter,  J.  A.     Plan  of  an  Agricultural  School,  I.  329. 

Porter,  Noah.  Essay  oil  Educational  Reform  in  Con- 
necticut, XIV.  244.  Norwich  Free  Academy,  HI. 
200. 

Potter,  Alonzo.  Consolidation,  &c.,  of  American 
Colleges,  I,  471.  Moral  and  Religious  Instruction, 
II.  169.  School  Houses  in  New  York,  IX.  507. 
Normal  Schools,  XIH.  344.  What  and  How  to 
Read,  H.  215.  Memoir,  XVI.  599. 

Pullicino,  and  Education  in  Italy,  H.  721. 

Pythagoras.  Cited,  VHI,  11,  12,  38,  43;  X.  132, 
1(52,  166 ;  XI.  109 ;  XIII.  8,  81. 

Quincy,  Josiah.     Girls'  High  School  in  Boston,  X]H. 

297.     Phillips'  Academy  in  1778,  XIII.  740. 
ftuincy,  Josiah,  Jr.     School  Policy  of  Boston,  XH. 

706. 
Quintilian.    Views  of  Education,  XI.  3. 

Rabelais,  and  his  Educational  Views,  XIV.  147. 
Ramstiuer.     Memoir,  VII.  301.     Life  at  Hofwyl,  IV. 

84,  119. 

Ramsden.     The  Heart  of  a  Nation,  XI.  17. 
Rumusat.     Circular  to  Teachers,  adopted  by  Guizot, 

XI.  278. 
Randall,  S.  S.     On  Francis  Dwight,  V.  809.    Josiah 

Holbrook.     Educational  Labors,  XIII.  227.    New 

York  Normal  School,  XIII.  532. 
Rnphall,  H.  L.    Education  among  the   Hebrews,  I. 

243. 
Ratich.     Life  and  Educational  Methods,  V.  229;  XL 

418.     On  Teaching  Latin,  VI.  586. 
Raumer,  Karl  von.     History  of  Education,  q.  v.  under 

SECTION  I.    German  Universities,  VI.  9  ;  VH.  47, 

160.     Essays  on  University  Reform,  VII.  200. 
Raumer,    Rudolf.     Instruction  in   the  German  Lan- 
guage, XI.  155,  419-429 ;  XH.  460-527. 
Ravaisson,  F.     Instruction  in  Drawing,  H.  319. 
Reid,  D.  B.     College  of  Architecture,  n.  029. 
Reisch,  Gregorius.     Margarita  Philosophica,  XVH. 

,  Roman  System  of  Measures,  XVII. 
Rendu,   Eugen.     Public   Instruction   in   France    and 

Prussia,  II.  337. 
Reuchlin,  and   German   Educators  of  the  Fifteenth 

Century,  V.  65. 

Rice,  V.  M.     Schools  of  New  York,  n.  518. 
Richard,  W.  F.     Methods  in  the  National  Schools  of 

England,  X.  501-540. 
Richards,    Z.     Discipline,  I.    107.     The  Teacher  an 

Artist,  XIV.  69. 
Richter,  J.  P.    Cited,  VHC.   27,  50,  618;  X.   119- 

199. 
Rickoff,  A.  J.     National  Bureau  of  Education,  XVI. 

299. 
Rider,  Captain.     On  System  of  Navigation  Schools, 

XV.  67. 

Rosenkrantz.     Present  Age  to  the  Educator,  XII*  425. 
Rosmini,  A.    Philosophy  of  Pedagogy,  IV.  491. 


Ross,  William.    Cathechetical  Method,  IX.  368. 

Ross,  W.  P.     Education  among  the  Cherokees,  I.  120 

Rousseau,  and  his  Educational  Views,  V.  459-486 
Education  defined,  XlH.  11. 

Rush,  Benjamin.    The  State  and  Education,  XV.  13 

Ruskin,  John.     Material  of  Education,  XL  19. 

Russell,  William.  Principles  and  Methods  of  Intel- 
lectual Education,  H.  113,  3]7;  III.  47,  311;  IV. 
199.  Moral  Education,  IX.  19-48.  National  Or- 
ganization of  Teachers,  XIV.  7.  Educational  La- 
bors of  Lowell  Mason,  IV.  141.  Recollections  of 
Josiah  Holbrook,  VIII.  339.  Legal  Recognition 
of  Teaching  as  a  Profession,  X.  297. 

Russell,  W.  H.    Plan  of  Gymnasium,  IX.  534. 

Ruthardt,  J.  C.  Method  of  Teaching  Latin  and 
Greek,  VI,  600. 

Sarmiento,  D.  F.  The  Schoolmaster's  Work,  XVI. 
65.  Basis  of  U.  S.  prosperity,  XVI.  533.  Educa- 
tional Labors,  XVI.  593. 

Schmid,  Joseph,  and  Peetalozzi,  VH.  297. 

Schmidt.    Definition  of  Education,  X]H.  9. 

Schottelius,  J.  G.     Philological  Labors,  XI.  429. 

Schwartz.    Cited,  VHI.  34,  53  ;  X.  164. 

Sears,  Barnas.     Schools  of  Massachusetts,  H.  498. 

Sears,  E.  I.     Henry  Lord  Brougham,  V.  467.     Memoir. 

Sedgwick,  C.  M.     What  and  How  to  Read,  H.  215. 

Seguin,E.    Treatment  and  Training  of  Idiots,  H.  145. 

Seneca.    Cited,  VHI.  12-68 ;  X.  135-196 ;  XII.  409. 

Seton,  S.  S.    Extracts  from  Manual,  XIII.  858. 

Shea,  J.  G.     Catholic  Institutions  in  the  U.  S.,  435. 

Shearman,  F.  W.     Schools  in  Michigan,  H.  510. 

Sheldon,  E.  A.     Object  Teaching,  XIV.  93. 

Shenstone,  William.  The  Schoolmistress,  with  An- 
notations. TTT.  449. 

Shurtleff,  N.  B.     Boston  Latin  School,  XII.  559. 

Shuttleworth,  Sir  J.  K.  Educational  Progress  in  En 
gland,  HI.  245.  Vehrli,  HI.  392.  Training 
Schools,  IX.  171-200. 

Sidney,  Sir  H.     On  Conduct,  XV,  378. 

Simonson,  L.  Cadet  System  in  Switzerland,  XlLt, 
693. 

Simpson,  J.     Education  defined,  XIH.  13. 

Slade,  William.     Education  at  the  West,  XV.  274. 

Smith,  Adam.    The  State  and  Education,  Xm.  720 

Smith,  B.  B.     Visit  to  Radleigh  School,  IV.  803. 

Smith,  Elbridge.     Norwich  Free  Academy,  ]H.  208. 

Smith,  Goldwin.     History,  XVII.  119. 

Smith,  H.  B.    The  Dutch  Universities,  I.  387. 

Smyth,  Sidney.     Objects  of  Education,  XIII.  12. 

Snell,  E.  S.    The  Gyroscope,  H.  701. 

Socrates,  Cited,  IV.  156;  VIII.  77;  X.  167,  187; 
XL  61,  62,  103,  107.  Methods  of  Philosophy,  X. 
375. 

South,  R.     Educational  Views,  XVII. 

Southey,  Robert.  The  State  and  Education,  XIII. 
719.  Views  of  Home  Education,  XVI.  433.  Con- 
duct and  Knowledge,  XVI.  223. 

Spencer,  Herbert.  Thoughts  on  Education,  XL  485- 
512 ;  XIII.  372-400. 

Spencer,  J.  C.    Education  of  Teachers,  XIII.  342 


26        CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


Sprague,  W.  B.    Influence  of  Yale  College,  X.  681. 
Spurzheim.    Mutual  Instruction,  X,  611.    Education 

defined,  XIII.  11. 

Stanley,  Lord.     Lyceums  and  Popular  Edu.,  HI.  241. 
Stephens,  L.     Normal  Schools  of  Prussia,  VIII.  368. 
Stewart,  Dugald.     Objects  of  Education,  XIII.  13. 
Stifler,  Michael,  and  Algebraic  Signs,  XVI. 
Stiles,  VV.  H.    Education  in  Georgia,  II.  477. 
Stow,  David.     Gallery  Training  Lessons,  IX.  413. 
Stowe,  C.  E.     Life  and  Labors,  V.  586.     Educational 

Wants  of  Ohio,  V.   588.     Primary  Instruction  in 

Germany,  VIII.  371.  Teachers'  Seminary,  XV.  688. 
Sturm,  J.  Life  and  Educational  Labors,  IV.  167,  401. 
Sullivan,  O.  Teaching  the  Alphabet,  XII.  601. 

Premiums  for  Knowledge  in  Com.  Things,  X.  93. 
Swett,  John.  Educations!  1  Labors,  XVI.  625,  790. 
Swift,  J.  On  Manners,  XVH, 

Tafel,  L.    The  Hamiltonian  System,  VI.  591. 
Tappan,  H.  P.     Educational  Development  in  Europe, 

I.  247-268.    Educational  Labors,  XIII,  452. 
Tarbox,  I.   N.     Statistics  of  New  England  Colleges, 

I,  405.     American  Education  Society,  XIV.  367. 
Tasso.     Memoir  and  Educational  Views,  XVII. 
Temple,  F.     Literature  and  Science,  XVII. 
Tenney,  Jonathan.     Schools  of  New  Hampshire,  H. 

511.    Memoir,  XVI.  "61. 

Teutleben,  K.  von,  and  Society  of  Usefulness,  XI.  424. 
Timer,  August,  and  Gymnastics,  VIII.  197. 
Thayer,  G.  F.     Letters  to  a  Young  Teacher,  I.  357; 

II,  103,  391,  657;  III.  71,  313;  IV.  219,  450;  VI. 
435 ;  VIII.  81.    Chauncey  Hall  School,  XIII.  851. 

Thayer,  S.    Competitive  Examination,  XV.  58. 
Thibaut.     On  Purity  in  Music,  X.  635. 
Thompson,  A.     Industrial  School,  III.  780. 
Tice,  J.  H.    Public  Schools  of  St.  Louis,  I.  348. 
Tillinghast,  Nicholas.     As  an  Educator,  H.  568.    On 

Normal  Schools,  XVI.  453. 
Timbs,  John.     Endowed  Schools  of  England,  VIII. 

261.    The  Hornbook,  XII.  687. 
Tixier,  J.    School  Dialogues,  XVI.  445. 
Tobler,  J.  G.     Methods  of  Teaching,  V.  210. 
Town,  Salem.     Schools  as  they  were,  XIII.  737. 
Trask,  A.  B.     Town  School  of  Dorchester,  XVI.  105. 
Trench,  R.     English  Language,  XVII. 
Trotzendorf,  V.  F.     Educational  Views,  V.  107. 
Turk,  R.  C.  W.  von.    V.  155. 
Turner,  Sydney.     Reformatory  Schools,  HI.  772. 
Tyndall.     Study  of  Physics,  XVII. 

Vail,  T.  H.    Methods  of  Using  Books,  H.  215. 
Vassar,  M.    Plan  of  Vassur  Female  College,  XL  55. 
Vehrli.    Hofwyl  and  Kruitzlingen,  LTI.  389;  X.  81. 
Verplanck,  J.  C.    Memoir  of  D.  H.  Barnes,  XIV.  513. 

Scientific  Knowledge  and  Business,  V.  116. 
Vinci,  Leonardo  di.     Drawing,  H.  425. 


Wayland,  Francis.  Objects  and  Methods  of  Intellect- 
ual Education,  XILI.  801.  Dedicatory  Address  at 
Pawtucket,  VHX  843.  Educational  Labors  and 
Publications,  XIII.  771.  Extracts  on  Method  of 
Recitation— System  of  University  Education — Sys- 
tem of  Public  Schools  for  a  City — The  Library  in 
Popular  Education— Theological  Education— Moses 
Stuart— Dr.  Nott— Thomas  K.  Arnold— XHJ.  776. 

Webster,  Noah.     School*  as  they  were,  XIII.  123. 

Weld,  Theodore  D.,  and  Manual  Labor,  XV.  234. 

Wells,  W.  H.  Life  and  Educational  Labors,  VIII. 
529.  Teachers'  Conferences,  Xm.  272.  Teach- 
ing English  Grammar,  XV.  241.  Exercises  on  Re- 
tiring from  Chicago  High  School,  XIV.  811. 

Wessel,  John.    Educational  Views,  IV.  714. 

VVhately,  Archbishop.  Annotations  on  Bacon,  XHI. 
103.  Education  defined,  XI.  18. 

Whewell,  W.  Education  denned,  XI.  11.  School 
Studies  and  University  Examinations,  XVH. 

White,  E.  E.    National  Bureau  of  Edu..  XVI.  177. 

White,  H.  R.     The  Village  Matron,  HI.  460. 

White,  S.  H.    National  Bureau  of  Edu.,  XV.  180. 

Wichern,  T.  H.     Reformatory  Education,  ITT.  5,  603. 

Wickersham,  J.  P.  Education  as  an  Element  of  Re- 
construction of  the  Union,  XVI.  283. 

Wilbur,  H.  B.     On  Object  Teaching,  XV.  189. 

Wilderspin,  S.     Infant  School,  IX.  531 ;  XHJ.  163. 

Wiley,  C.  H.     Schools  of  North  Carolina,  H.  527. 

Willurd,  Mrs.  Emma.  Female  Education,  VI.  125. 
Female  Association,  XV.  612. 

Willm,  J.  The  Monitorial  System,  X.  466.  Teach- 
ers' Libraries,  XIII.  293,  298. 

Wimmer,  H.  Public  Instruction  in  Saxony,  V.  350; 
IX.  201.  Educational  Intelligence,  HI.  272;  IV. 
243,  793.  On  Real  Schools  of  Austria,  HJ.  275. 

Winthrop,  R.  C.     Free  Schools,  I.  645. 

Wise,  Henry  A.     Schools  of  Virginia,  U.  557. 

W'iseman,  Cardinal.     Education  of  the  Poor,  XVII. 

Wohlfarth,  J.  F.  F.  Pedagogical  Treasure  Casket, 
VLTI.  8-80;  X.  116-290. 

Wolf,  T.  A.     Educational  Views,  VI.  260. 

Wolsey,  Cardinal.  Plan  forGrammar  School,  VU.  487. 

Woodbridge,  W.  Suggestions  on  School  Improve- 
ments, XV.  609.  Reminiscences  of  Female  Educa- 
tion prior  to  1801,  XVI.  137. 

Woodbridge,  W.  C.  Life  and  Educational  Labors, 
V.  51.  Education  defined,  XIU.  16. 

Woolsey,  T.  D.  Historical  Discourse  on  Yale  Col- 
lege, V.  546.  Norwich  Free  Academy,  HJ.  197. 

Wordsworth,  W.     State  and  Education,  XILT.  719. 

Wotton,  Sir  Henry.    Survey  of  Educa.,  XV.  123-143. 

Wyatt,  Sir  T.    On  Conduct.    XV.  37C. 

Wykeham,  and  Winchester  College,  VTTT.  261. 

Young,  Samuel.    Schools  of  New  York,  IX.  505. 
Young,  T.  U.    Infant  School  Teaching,  XII.  155. 


Wadsworth,  James.    Labors  of  Education,  V.  395.  Zeller,  C,  H.    Teachings  of  Experience  for  Christian 

Watts,  Isanc.     Improvement  of  the  Mind,  H.  215.  Schools,  HJ.  386.     Memoir,  VH.  305. 

Webster,   Daniel.      Normal  Schools,  I.   590.      Free  Zoroaster.    Cited,  X.  167. 

Schools,  I.  591.    Education  defined,  XHJ.  14.  Zschokke.    Cited,  VHI.  21,  30,  51 ;  X.  142-198. 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


III.    STUDIES  AND  METHODS ;  SCHOOL  ORGANIZATION  AND  DISCIPLINE. 


A  B  C-shooters,  V.  90,  603 ;  books,  XII,  593. 

Absence,  II.  444,  504  ;  V.  631 ;  XV.  293. 

Academy,  plan  for,  XVI.  403. 

Accuracy,  XHI.  515. 

Acquisition,  XHT.  512. 

Acting  plays,  IV.  175  ;  VH..  503  ;  XIV.  474. 

Activity,  independent,  VIII.  617  ;  XLII.  13,  376. 

Adult  education,  I,  634  ;  VIE.  230;  XVI.  343. 

Advice  to  Students  on  Studies  and  Conduct,  XIII. 
193;  XV.  377;  XVI.  186,  216,  223.  Lord  Bacon, 
XVI.  186;  Sir  Thomas  Bodleigh,  XV.  381;  Lord 
Brougham,  XVI.  186;  Carlyle,  XVI.  191;  Sir 
Matthew  Hale,  XVLT;  Niebuhr,  XVI.  216;  Sir 
H.Sidney,  XV.  379;  Southey,  XVI.  233;  Vail, 
H.  215 ;  Whately,  XHI,  106 ;  Wyatt,  XV.  377. 

Algebra,  II.  177. 

Alphabet,  Modes  of  Teaching.  XII.  593. 

Amusements,  HI.  42;  V.  449  ;  X,  256  ;  XILt,  93  ; 
XIV.  474. 

Analysis  and  Analytic  Method,  H.  122,  133 ;  IV. 
505  ;  Vm.  169  ;  IX.  205. 

Anger,  XI,  482,  504. 

Anglo  Saxon  Language,  I.  33 ;  XVI.  568. 

Anthropology,  XIII.  327. 

Aphorisms  on  Studies  and  Conduct,  XV.  376;  Sub- 
jects of  Instruction,  X.  141 ;  Discipline  X,  187 ; 
Early  Training,  XIII.  79. 

Appetites,  X.  137  ;  XIH  512,  578;  XVI.  53. 

Aptness  to  teach,  XLTI.  762. 

Archery,  IH.  41 ;  XVI.  496. 

Architectural  Game,  XI.  27. 

Arithmetic,  Currie,  IX.  247;  Hill.  VI.  454;  Gilles- 
pie,  I.  539 ;  Raumer,  VEH.  170 ;  Richards,  X.  534. 

Art-as  a  Study,  by  Miss  A.  M.  D wight,  H.  409,  587 ; 
HI.  467 ;  IV.  191 ;  V.  305. 

Art  and  Science,  by  Dana,  II.  349;  Raumer,  X,  218. 

Attendance,  Burnard,  XV.  293. 

Ball-frame,  IX,  255  ;  XI.  24. 

Basedow's  Methods,  V.  487. 

Beans  in  Arithmetic,  VI,  454. 

Beating  of  Children,  IV.  156,  165  ;  V.  509;  XI.  479. 

Bible,  EC.  613 ;  Arnold,  IV.  443  ;  Locke,  XII.  471 ; 
XIV.  308 ;  Luther,  IV.  443  ;  Raumer,  VH.  402  ; 
VIII.  104 ;  Whately,  XIII.  108. 

Bifurcation,  XII.  47. 

Biographical  Method  in  History,  IV.  514,  577. 

Biology,  Xm.  392. 

Bipartite  Organization,  XHI.  150. 

Birch,  TTT,  462  ;  V.  509. 

Blackboard  or  surface,  V.   499;    X.  600;    XII.  648; 

xm.  32. 

Blocks  in  Geometry,  VI.  451. 

Books,  Value  of,  H.  205,215;  X.  158;  XHL  788; 

XVI.  191. 

Book-learning,  H.  561 ;  VII.  267,  366;  XIH  837. 
Borough-road  School  Methods,  X.  381. 
Botany,  VH.  296 ;  VHJ.  126 ;  IX.  77,  J09  ;  X.  640 ; 

XI.  46. 


Boy-tutors,  XVI,  227. 

Burgher,   or  Citizens'  School,  VTTT,  414 ;    IX.  210, 

384  ;  XI.  248  ;  XII.  520. 
Benschenschaft',  VII,  80,  91,  165. 
Calisthenics,  H,  405. 

Catechism  on  Methods,  from  Diesterweg,  IV.  233,  505. 
Catechetical  Method,  W.  Ross,  IX,  367. 
Character,  X.  129  ;  XIH.  571. 
Chemistry,  V.  712  ;  VH.  277  ;  VIII.  665  ;  XI.  210; 

Xm.  391. 
Childhood,  IV.  424 ;    V.  467  ;    VH.  382 ;   XI.  483 ; 

XII.  629 ;  XVI,  193. 
Chiding,  XIH.  559. 
Church-cross  row,  XVH.  195. 
Christianity  in  Schools,   I,  251;    H,  567,  693;    IV. 

527,  572 ;  V.  77  ;  XIII.  118,  287,  325. 
Christmas  Festival,  X,  260 ;  XHI.  95. 
Chronological  Method,  IV.  515. 
City  Influence,  HI,  323  .   VII.  33,  240;   VTTT  143; 

XV.  309. 
Classical  Instruction,  by  Ascham,  XI.  70;  I.  Cady, 

XTJ.  561 ;  David  Cole,  I.  67 :  Erasmus,  IV.  729 ; 

T.  Lewis,  I.  285 ;  Raumer,  VIE.  471 ;  Sturm,  IV. 

169;  Woolsey,  VJJ.  487. 
Collective  Teaching,  X.  395. 

Common  Things,  by  Lord  Ashburton,  I.  629;  Morri- 
son, IX.  321;  Stow,  IX.  413;  Specimen  Lessons, 

X.  105,  575 ;  IX.  349. 
Competitive  Examination,  by  Barnard,  XIV.  108; 

Booth,  HJ.  267. 

Common  Sense,  V.  476;  XIII.  599. 
Composition,  HJ.  331 ;    VIII.  387  ;   X.  415 ;  XI. 

122  ;  XH.  494  ;  XIV.  363:  XVI.  641. 
Compulsion  in  attendance,  XI.  266  ;   in  study,  VJJ. 

213 ;  XTJI.  373. 
Conduct,  IV.  161 ;   X.  141 ;    XIJJ,  79 ;  XV.  123, 

378;  XVI.  191. 
Conversation,  XI.  106,  339;  XTJI,  556;  XIV.  360; 

XV.  152  ;  XVI.  682.    ' 

Conversational  Method,  by  Marcel,  XI.  106,  339. 
Constructive  Method,  by  Abbenrode,  IV.  507. 
Corpornl    Punishment,     Bell,    X.    486;    Diesterweg, 

XHJ.    619;    Erasmus,    XVI.    680;    Goldsmith, 

XTH,  352  ;    Johnson,  XHJ.  363 ;    Locke,  XHJ. 

563 ;  Austria,  XVI.  614,  690  ;  England,  HJ.  157. 
Country  Training,  HI,  323  :  V.  472;  X.  644  ;  XTTT. 

141 ;  XV.  303. 
Counters,  VHI.  182 

Courage,  IX.  41 ;  X.  57 ;  XHI.  584  ;  XVI.  57. 
Crime  and  Education,  IV.  579 ;    VI,  311,  494  ;   XI. 

77. 

Curiosity,  H.  118;  V.  477;  XHJ.  112,572. 
Debating,  by  J.  M.  Elligott,  I.  495. 
Discipline,  by  Diesterweg,  VHJ.  619;  Locke,  XHI, 

557;  Hamill,  I.  122;   Spencer,  XI.  498;  Thayer, 

VI.  435 ;    XIH.  831 ;    Dorchester  School  in  1645, 

XVI.  106;  Hopkins  Grammar  School,  1684,  IV.  710. 
Drawing,  by  Hentschel,  X.  59 ;  Ravaison,  H.  419. 


28        CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


English  Language  and  Literature,  by  Buckham, 
XIV.  343  ;  XVI.  556 ;  Day,  XVI.  641 ;  Gibbs, 
II.  193;  III.  101;  Hart,  I.  33;  Felton,  X.  284 ; 
March,  XVI.  562;  Wells,  XV.  145. 

Fagging  in  English  Schools,  IV.  569 ;  V.  80  ;  XV.  107. 

French  Language,  XV.  772. 

German  Language,  XI.  155,  400 ;  XII.  460. 

Geography — Methods  of  Teaching,  by  Abbenrode, 
IV.  505;  Currie.  IX.  269;  Dunn,  X.  421;  Hill, 
VII.  275  ;  Key,  IX.  186  ;  Mann,  VTLT.  390;  Mar- 
cel, XI.  35  ;  Pestnlozzi,  X.  150 ;  Phelps,  IX.  62.; 
Raumer,  VIH.  3  ;  Thayer,  VHL  81. 

Geometry,  Basedow,  V,  512 ;  Diesterweg,  IV.  239  ; 
Euclid,  Vm.  155;  GillespieJ.  541;  Hill,  VI.  191, 
449  ;  Ra tuner,  VIII.  155  ;  Spencer,  XTTT,  383. 

Geology  IV.  7H5 ;  VI.  238;  VII.  71,  203;  VLLT. 
241 ;  XI.  46. 

Gradation  of  Schools.  H.  455. 

Greek  Language,  XII.  561 ;  I.  284,  482. 

Grouping  Method  in  History,  IV.  515. 

Gymnastics,  Lewis'  System,  XI.  531 :  XII.  665. 

History,  Method  in,  by  Abbenrode,  IV.  51%  XII. 
665;  Arnold,  IV.  565;  Basedow,  V.  503;  Hill, 
VI.  184;  VII.  490;  Marcel,  XI.  41;  Niemeyer, 
X.  156 ;  Raumer,  VELL  101  ;  X.  641  ;  Richter, 
X.  154  ;  Whately,  XH[.  119- 

Intellectual  Training,  by  Eliot,  XVI.  488;  Fellen- 
berg,  III.  594;  Goldsmith,  XIII.  347;  Hill,  VI. 
180;  Kriisi,  V.  187;  Lalor,  XVI.  40;  Locke, 
XIV.  305;  Milton,  H.  79;  Montaigne,  IV.  161; 
Pestalozzi,  VII.  512  ;  tiuintilian,  XI.  3  ;  Raumer, 
Vni.  81;  Rousseau,  V.  459;  Russell,  n.  112: 
Spencer,  XI.  484 :  XIII.  372 ;  Wayland,  XIII. 
801. 

Infant  Schools  and  Instruction,  Currie,  IX.  228; 
Froebel,  n.  449  ;  IV.  237 ;  Home  and  Colonial  So- 
ciety, XIII.  78 ;  Marcel,  XI.  21 ;  Prussian 
Schools,  Vni.  371 ;  Raumer,  VLT.  381 ;  Young, 
XIV.  165. 

Intuitional  Instruction,  IV.  233;  XII.  411. 

Italian  Language,  VIE.  434,  459. 

Itinerating  Schools,  Vm.  296. 

Jesuit  System  of  Schools,  V.  212  ;  XIV.  455. 

Kindergarten,  IV.  257. 

Lacedamonian  System,  ITT,  85;  XIV.  612. 

Lancasterian  System,  X.  402. 

Latin  Language,  by  Acquaviva,  XIV.  462 ;  Arnold, 
IV.  564  ;  Asham,  XI.  70 ;  Bates,  XV.  155 ;  Co- 
menius,  VI.  585;  Erasmus,  IV.  729;  Gesner,  V. 
744  ;  VI.  583  ;  Hamilton,  VI.  586  ;  Herder,  VI. 
207 ;  Hoole,  XVU.  225 ;  Jacotot,  VI.  595 ;  Ja- 
cobs, VI.  612:  Locke,  XIV.  3J1 ;  Luther,  IV.  44; 
Melancthon,  IV.  755,  764;  Meierotto,  VI.  583,  609; 
Meiring,  VI.  592  ;  Milton,  TJ.  79:  Montaigne,  IV. 
473  ;  VI.  584  ;  Ratich,  V.  234  ;  VI.  586  ;  Raumer, 
VI.  581  ;  VII.  471 ;  Rousseau,  V.  473';  Ruthardt, 
VI.  600 ;  Sturm,  IV.  169 ;  VI.  581 ;  Tafel,  VI. 
591  ;  Textor,  XV.  444 ;  Trapp,  VI.  261  ;  Vossius, 
VI.  582  ;  Woif  VI.  268  ;  Woolsey,  VII.  487. 

Latin  Pronunciation.  XV.  171. 

Lectures  and  University  Teaching,  Barnard,  V.  775 : 


Johnson,   XIII.  363 ;  Masson,  IV.   271 ;  Raumer, 

VTJ.  201,  213 ;  Vaughn,  IV.  271  ;  Wolf,  VII.  487. 
Liberal  Education  and  Studies,  Butes,  XV.  155  ;  Ev- 
erett, VHJ.  364  ;  Felton,  X.  281. 
Madras  System,  X.  467. 
Manners,  Hopkins,  XI.  930;  Locke,  VI.  213  ;  XIII. 

551;  Montaigne,  IV.  469;  Thayer,  TJ.  103;  1  lu- 

tarch,  XI,  106. 

Mathematics,  French  Polytechnic  system,  I.  533. 
Memory,  IL  385;  IV.  171,  201,  721;  V.  678';  VI. 

464,602;    VII.  279;    X-  126;   XH.  416;   XIV. 

87,  321,  469 ;  XVII.  280. 
Mental  Arithmetic,  JJ.  301  ;  VIII.  385,  459. 
Mental  Science,  by  J.  Haven,  HI.  125. 
Methods,  Essays  on,  by  Currie,  IX.  229 :  Diesterweg, 

IV-  233,  505;    Dunn,  X.  391;  Morrison,  IX.  294; 

Raumer,  VHJ.  101  ;  Richards-,  X.  505 ;  Ross,  IX. 

367;    Spencer,  XUI.  372  ;    Thayer,  HI.  3]3  ;  IV. 

219,  450. 

Military  Exercises  in  School,  by  Molineux,  XI.  513. 
Monitorial  System,  English  National  Schools,  X.  503; 

Irish  National  Schgols,  XIII.  150. 
Moral  Education,   Brooks,  I.  336;    Cowdery,  XVI. 

323;  Fellenberg,  HI.  595 ;  Lalor,  XVI.  48;  Locke, 

XL  473;  XIH.  548;    Russell,  IX.  19;  Spencer, 

XI.  496. 

Music,  or  Singing,  VHL  633 ;  IX.  267 ;  XVI.  38. 
Mutual   Instruction,  Bell,  X.  4!)l ;    De  Gerando,   X. 

465;  Fowle,  X.  611 ;    Keenan,  X.  402;  Lancaster, 

X.  402. 
Mother  Tongue,  HI.  327 ;  IV.  473 ;  V.  235,  246, 253 ; 

VI.   197,  201  ;    VH.   375 ;    XI.  458 ;    XII.  464 ; 

XIV.  343;  XVI.  340. 
Motives  to  Study,  Lyton,  HI.  295 ;  Mann,  XIH.  518 ; 

XVI.  279 ;    Rousseau,  V.   477  ;    Spencer,  XHI. 

377  ;  Thayer,  VI.  435. 
Natural  Science,  IV.  445;  VHL  123;  X.  145;  XV. 

95  ;  XVI.  528. 
Number,  Early  Sessions  In,  H.  132 ;    V.  .188 ;   VH. 

698  ;  IX.  247,  467 :  XI.  24. 
Natural  History,  Dawson,  HI.  428. 
Natural  Consequences  of  Actions,  the  Law  of  Disci- 
pline, Spencer,  XI.  498. 
New  Gymnastics,  XI.  531 ;  XH.  665. 
Object  Teaching,  Bacon,  V.  674,  680  ;  Calkins,  XH. 

633;    Comenius,  V.  680 ;    Halm,  V.  696  ;    Hecker, 

V.  693,  696;    Henzky,  V.  694  ;    Hoole,  XII.  647; 

Gesner,  V.  748  ;    Greene,  X.  245  ;  Locke,  VI.  220 ; 

Marcel,  XI.  21 ;  Oswego  System,  XII.  604  ;  XIV. 

93;    Pestalozzi,  V.  76;    Ratich,  V.  689;  Semler, 

V.  691;   Sheldon,  XIV.  93;  Spencer,  XIH.  378; 

Wilbur,  XV.  189. 
Oral  Teaching,  Barnard,  V.  777;   Currie,  IV.  104; 

Masson,  V.  270;    Marcel,  XL  31,  330;    Morrison, 

IX.  303,  321 ;  Wolf.  VI.  272  ;  Vaugh,  IV.  271. 
Penmanship,  Everett,  LV.  452 ;    XH.  556;  Mulhau- 

sen,  X.  524:    Niebuhr,  XVI.  207;    Raumer,  X. 

626  ;  Thayer,  IV.  450. 
Perception  and  Perceptive  Faculties,  Bacon,  XH.  42; 

Hill,  XIV.  $6;  Marcel,  XI.  21;  Raumer,  VIII. 

207  ;  Russell,  H.  113,  316  ;  Spencer,  XIH.  396. 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD  S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


29 


Physical  Education,  Aphorisms,  VlII.  75  ;  Aristotle, 
XIV.  140;  Ascham,  HI.  41  ;  Bandow,  V.  510; 
Beecher,  II.  399;  Comeiiius,  V.  281  ;  Currie,  XI.  * 
233  ;  Elyot,  XVI.  490,  Fellenlferg,  HI.  596  ;  Guts- 
muths,  VLTI.  191;  Jahn,VIII.  196;  Lalor,  XVI. 
34  ;  Locke,  XI.  462;  Lorinser,  VLtt.  187;  Luther, 
IV.  448  ;  VIII.  190  ;  Lycurgus,  XIV.  620  ;  Mann, 
Mason,  XIV.  01  ;  Milton,  II.  83;  Montaigne,  IV. 
465;  Pestalozzi,  VLII.  192;  Plutarch,  XI.  105; 
Quintilian,  XI.  118;  Rabelais,  XIV.  149;  Rau- 
mer,  VIII.  185;  Rousseau,  V.  475,  VEH.  185; 
Spencer,  XI.  485;  Trotzendorf,  V.  112;  Vehrli, 
III.  390,  394  ;  English  Public  Schools,  XV.  105. 

Pictures  in  School-books,  IV.  509  ;  V.  506,  512  ;  VI. 
585  ;  XIE.  C47. 

Picturing-out  Method.  IX.  413,  424. 

Pleasure  in  Study  and  Work,  VI.  464  ;  XLTI.  386, 
488,  -587. 

Pleasure-grounds  of  Knowledge,  XLTI.  121;  XVI. 
438. 

Play-state  of  Childhood,  XLTI.  93. 

Physiology,  V.  499,  512  ;  XI.  49;  XVI.  44. 

Plays  and  Pastimes,  V.  284;  X.  259;  XI.  490; 
XLTI.  93,  539,  594  ;  XIV.  474. 

Poetry,  Study  of,  LT.  82  ;  TTT  329  ;  VI.  220,  226,  467, 
517  ;  VLTI.  226  ;  X.  161  ;  XI.  509  ;  XLTI.  117  ; 
XVI.  47. 

.  Political  Science,  LT.  82  ;  HI.  82  ;  V.  513  ;  IX.  105  ; 
XL  214  ;  XIV.  135,  326. 

Posture  in  Devotion,  IV.  29  ;  VLTI.  631. 

Pouring-in  Method.  V.  819. 

Powers  to  be  Educated,  Hill,  XIV.  84. 


Reading,  Methods  of  Instruction,  Currie,  IX.  273, 
277;  Dunn,  X.  399;  Harwich,  VIII.  436;  Hon- 
camp,  IV.  234;  Lloyd,  IV.  225;  Locke,  VI.  219, 

XIV.  304;    Morrison,  IX-  307;   Olivier,  V.  508; 
Prinsen,  VLTI.  612;  Quintiliim,  XL  120  ;  Raumer, 
X.  624  ;    XII.  473 ;    Thayer,  IV.  218  ;   Wilbur, 

XV.  201. 

Reasoning  with  Children,  V.  471  ;  XLTI.  562. 

Reflection  and  Reflective  Faculties,  Marcel,  XI.  33; 
Russell,  IV.  198,  309. 

Religion  and  Religious  Instruction,  Acquaviva,  XIV. 
471;  Arnold,  IV.  559 ;  Bible,  X.  167;  Basedow, 
V.  501,  513;  Brooks,  I,  336;  Burgess,  LT.  562; 
Currie,  IX.  284;  Cousin,  XILT.  287;  Comenius, 
V.  226  ;  Cowdery,  XVI.  323  ;  Dunn,  X.  427;  Fel- 
lenberg,  XLTI.  325;  Fisher,  X.  180;  Hegel,  X. 
171;  Hoole,  XVLT.  238;  Huntington,  IV.  23; 
Kriisi,  V.  195;  Lalor,  XVL  49;  Lindsley,  VLT. 
35;  Locke,  XIV.  308;  Luther,  X.  183;  Nie- 
meyer,  X.  132,  -173,  177,  184 ;  Plato,  X.  170 ;  Pes- 
talo/.zi,  X.  175,  182;  Potter,  LT.  154,  162;  Pytha- 
goras^  X.  167;  Randall,  LT.  156;  Raumer,  VLT. 
401;  X.  241;  Richards,  X.  512;  Socrates,  X.  169; 
Thayer,  ILT.  71 ;  Zchokke,  X.  169,  176. 

Religion  in  Public  Schools  of  Baden,  X.  206;  Bava- 
ria, VI.  281  :  VLTL  501 ;  England,  IV.  559,  573  ; 
X.  513;  XV.  101);  XVI.  670;  Greece,  XLT.574; 
Holland,  XIV.  642,  693;  Hanover,  XV-  426,  769; 
Ireland,  XI.  137,  152 ;  Jesuit  Schools,  XIV.  471 ; 
Prussia,  VLU.  420  ;  Scotland,  IX.  222. 

Requisitions  and  Prohibitions,  XLTI.  851, 

Rewards  in  School,  VI.  212,  435  ;  XI.  480. 


Practicality,  IV.  477 ;    V.  480  ;  X.  129,  414  ;    XTTT      Rote-learning,  V.  247,  474;    VI.   465;    VLT.  405; 


13,  103,  812. 

Praise,  VLTI.  618  ;  XVI.  62. 
Prayers  in  Colleges,  LT.  662 ;  IV.  23 ;  V.  515. 
Precocity,  V.  473,  749  ;   XL  492,  508. 
Prize  Schemes,  1.629;  LT.  708;   LLT.  249,  255;   V. 

226;  VI.  287. 

Printing-press,  uses  of  to  Boys,  IX.  636. 
Private  Schools,  LT.  719  ;  VI.  213  ;  XLTI.  553. 
Progression,  XVI.  643. 
Progressives  of  the  16th  Century,  VI.  463. 
Promotion  by  merit,  XLTI.  667  ;  XV.  92. 
Pronunciation  of  English,  IV.  226 ;  XTV.  354;   of 

Greek  and  Latin,  IV.  226;  XV.  171. 
Public   Schools   in  England,  VEIL  257 ;    XV.  81 ; 

XVI.  501,  567. 
Public  Schools  and  Private  Schools,  XL  114  ;  XTTT 

361 ;  XV.  323. 
Punctuality,  LT.  659  ;  V  520. 
Pupil-Teachers,  IV.  191  ;  X.  385,  504. 
Puzzling  Pupils,  XIV.  313. 
Quadriennium,  XIV.  172. 
Quadrivium,  I.  254  ;  VI.  21. 
Quick-wits,  XI.  58. 

Questions  for  Examining  a  School,  I.  686 ;  X,  449. 
Ratio  Studiorum,  of  the  Jesuits,  XTV.  462. 
Reaction,  Law  of,  XI.  493,  502. 


XLT.  416  ;  XLH.  113,  373. 
Rules  for  School  Attendance,  XIV.  816  ;  Good  Be- 
havior, VLTI.  613 ;  X.  438  ;  XLLT.  171,  549,  851 ; 

Hopkins'   Grammar  School,  IV.  710;    Dorchester 

School,  XVI.  106. 
Science  in  Schools,  I.  164,  514;  LT.  66,  81,  349,  447; 

LLT.  147,  265 ;   IV.  757  ;   V.  671,  779 ;   VI.  233, 

448 ;  XLTI.  399. 

Science  and  Art,  I.  102,  315,  388  ;   LT.  715  ;  X,  218. 
Simultaneous  Method,  IX.  299. 
Socratic  Method,  IX.  375  ;  Currie,  IX.  283. 
Spelling,  Dunn,  X.  409 ;   Richards,  X.  517;  Thayer, 

LTI.  312. 
Studies,  True  Order  of,  Hill,  VI.  180,  449;  VI.  273, 

491  ;  Spencer,  XLTI.  374. 
Synthetical  Method,  IV.  504. 
Synchronistical  Method  in  History,  IV.  515. 
Text-books,  Catalogue  of  American,  XLTI.  208,  401, 

627  ;  XIV.  601,  753. 
Topical  Method  in  Geography,  VLTI.  82. 
Tripartite  Organization,  IX.  316  ;  XLTI.  149. 
Turners  and  Turning  System,  VLT.  92 ;    VIII.  189. 
Unconscious  Tuition,  I.  141. 
Utility  of  Studies,  LT.  386 ;  V.  479;  XV.  101. 
Virtue,  V.  494;  VLH.  10;  X.  167;  VTLT.  550. 
Will,  V.  511,  671 ;  IX.  37  ;  V.  137  ;  XTV.  472,  617. 


Real  Schools,.VI.  248  ;  V.  661,  674,  691 ;  VLTI.  508 ;    Writing  and  Reading,  IV.  234  ;  VLT.  694 ;  XLT.  477. 


IX.  247  ;  XIV.  425  ;  XV.  440,  767. 


Writing  and  Drawing,  VLU.  388. 


30         CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


IV.    TEACHERS ;  NORMAL  AND  MODEL  SCHOOLS ;  TEACHERS'  INSTITUTES. 


The  School  and  the  Teacher  in  English  Literature, 
HI.  155,  449 ;  IV.  183 ;  VLLT.  283 ;  XVI.  432. 

Legal  Recognition  of  Teaching  as  a  Profession  ;  Me- 
morial, X.  297-308. 

The  Teacher  as  an  Artist,  by  Z.  Richards,  XIV.  69. 

The  Teacher's  Motives,  by  Horace  Mann,  XIV.  277. 

Essentials  to  Success  in  Teaching,  I.  561. 

Letters  to  a  Young  Teacher,  by  G.  F.  Thayer,  I.  357 ; 
H.  103,  391,  657  ;  ILL  71,  313  ;  IV.  219,  450 ;  VI. 
435;  TILT.  81. 

Lectures  to  Young  Teachers  ;  Intellectual  Education, 
by  W.  Russell,  LT.  113,  317;  HI.  47,  321;  IV. 
199,  309.  Moral  Education,  IX.  19. 

Special  Training  a  Pre-requisite  to  Teaching,  by  H. 
Mann,  XIH.  507. 

Teachers  and  their  Education,  by  W.  E.  Channing, 
XH.  453. 

Professional  Training  of  Teachers,  XHI.  269. 

Didactics  as  a  Department  in  Colleges,  by  T.  Hill, 
XV.  177. 

German  Views  upon  Female  Teachers,  IV.  795. 

Teachers'  Conferences  and  other  Modes  of  Profession- 
al Improvement,  XHI.  273. 

Teachers'  Institutes  in  Wisconsin,  VIH.  673.  In 
Different  States— Historical  Development,  XV.  387. 
Connecticut,  387 ;  New  York,  395 ;  Ohio,  401  ; 
Rhode  Island,  405  ;  Massachusetts,  412. 

School  for  Teachers,  by  W.  R.  Johnson,  V.  799. 

Teachers'  Seminaries,  by  C.  E.  Stowe,  XV.  688. 

Relation  of  Normal  Schools  to  other  Institutions,  by 
W.  F.  Phelps,  HI.  417. 

Historical  Development  of  Normal  Schools  in  Europe 
and  America,  XHI.  753-770. 

Germany  and  other  European  States — Number,  Loca- 
tion and  Results  of  Normal  Schools,  VLLT.  360 ; 
Professional  Training  of  Teachers  in  Anhalt,  XV. 
345  ;  Austria,  XVI.  345  ;  Baden,  X.  212 ;  Bavarin, 
VI.  289;  Belgium,  VLH.  593;  Brunswick,  XV. 
453;  France,  XHI.  281 ;  Greece,  XH.  579  ;  Han- 
over, XV.  419;  Hesse-Cussel,  XV.  439;  Hesse 
Darmstadt,  XIV.  416  ;  Holland,  XIV.  501,  647  ; 


Holland.    Normal  School  at  Haarlem,  XIV.  501. 

Prussia.  Provisions  for  Education  and  Support  of 
Teachers,  XI.  165-190.  System  of  Normal  Schools, 
XIV.  191-240.  Seminary  School  at  Weissenfels, 
VIH.  455 ;  XIV.  219.  Dr.  Julius  on,  XVI.  89. 
Regulations  of  1854,  XVI.  395. 

Normal  Schools  in  Switzerland,  XHI.  313-440. 

Normal  and  Model  Schools  of  Upper  Canada,  XIV. 
483. 

United  States  —  Documentary  History  of  Normal 
Schools— Adams,  I.  589  ;  Bache,  VLH.  360  ;  Bar- 
nard, X.  24,  40  ;  Bates,  XVI.  453  :  Brooks,!.  587; 
Barrowes,  XVI.  195;  Calhoun,  XVI.  86;  Carter, 
XVI.  77;  Channing,  XH.  453;  Clinton,  XTTT, 
341 ;  Dwight,  IV.  16 :  Edwards,  XVI.  271  ;  Em- 
erson, XVI.  93 :  Everett,  XLH.  758;  Gallaudet^ 
X.  16  ;  Hall,  V.  386  ;  XVI.  75  ;  Humphrey,  XH. 
655  ;  Julius,  XVI.  89  ;  Johnson,  V.  798  ;  Lindsley, 
VH.  35  ;  Mann,  V.  646  ;  VHI.  360  ;  Olmsted,  V. 
369 ;  Peirce,  IV.  305 ;  Phelps,  TTT.  417  ;  Putnam,  I. 
588 ;  Sears,  XVI.  471 ;  Stephens,  VLH.  368 ; 
Stowe,  XV.  688;  Tillmglmst,  I.  67  ;  Webster,  I. 
590 ;  Wickersham,  XV.  221. 

Chapter  in  the  History  of  Normal  Schools  in  New 
England ;  Charles  Brooks,  I.  587. 

California.    State  Normal  School,  XVI.  628. 

Connecticut.  History  of  State  Normal  School,  X. 
15-58.  History  of  Teachers'  Institutes,  XV,  387. 

Illinois.    State  Normal   University  at  Bloomington, 

IV.  774. 

Kentucky.     State  Normal  School,  HI.  217. 
Maine.     State  Normal  School,  XVH. 
Maryland.    State  Normal  School,  XVH. 
Massachusetts.    State  Normal  School  at  Bridgewater, 

V.  646  ;  XVI.  595.    At  Barre ;  Everett's  Address, 
XHI.  758.    At  Westfield,   XH.   652.    Teachers' 
Seminary  at  Andover,  V.  386.    History  of  Teach- 
ers' Institutes,  XV.  387. 

New  Jersey.  State  Normal  School,  HI.  221.  Its 
Aims,  by  D.  Cole,  V.  835.  Faruum  Preparatory 
School,  HI.  397. 


Lippe  Detmold,  XV.  475;   Mecklenburg,  XV.  464,    New  York.    State  Normal  School  at  Albany,  XLTI. 
472;  Nassau,  LT.  444;  Prussia,  XI.  165;  Russia,        341,   531.    History   of  Teachers'    Institutes,   XV. 

395. 


XH.  727;  Sardinia,  HI.  517;  Saxony,  V.  353; 
Switzerland,  XHI.  313. 

Great  Britain.  Training  Colleges  in  England  and 
Wales,  X.  349.  Normal  Schools  of  the  British  and 
Foreign  School  Society,  X.  435.  Normal  and 
Model  Schools  of  the  Home  and  Colonial  Society, 
IX.  449.  St.  Mark's  Training  College  for  Masters 
of  the  National  Society,  X.  531.  Battersea  Train- 
ing School  for  Parochial  Schoolmasters,  IX.  170. 
Chester  Diocesan  Training  College,  X.  553.  Nor- 
mal Schools  for  Training  Schoolmistresses,  X.  571 ; 
Normal  Schools  at  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow,  X.  583. 
Irish  System  of  Training  Teachers,  XL  136. 

France.  Normal  Schools  and  Training,  XLH.  281. 
Normal  Schools  of  the  Christian  Brothers,  HI.  437. 


Training  School  at  Oswego,  XVI.  230.  Nor- 
mal School  at  Brock  port,  XVII. 

Ohio.  History  of  Teachers'  Institutes,  XV.  401. 
Normal  Schools  in,  XVH. 

Pennsylvania.  Professional  Training  of  Teachers, 
XIV.  721.  Normal  School  at  Millersville,  XV. 
221.  Philadelphia  Normal  School  for  Female 
Teachers,  XIV.  727.  XVI.  195.  Normal  School 
at  Mansfield,  XVH. 

Rhode  Island.  Education  of  Teachers,  XL  282. 
History  of  Teachers'  Institutes,  XV.  405. 

Vermont.  Teachers'  Seminary  in  1823,  XVI.  146. 
State  Normal  Schools,  XVH. 

Wisconsin.  Teachers'  Institutes,  VHI.  673.  Normal 
Schools,  XVH. 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION.        3! 


V.    STATE  AXD  NATIONAL  SYSTEMS. 


Educational  Statistics,  I.  G40-G51. 

Anhalt.     System  of  Public  Instruction,  XV.  344. 

Austria.  System  of  Public  Instruction,  IX.  589. 
Educational  Statistics,  TTT  275  ;  IV.  257  ;  XVI, 
5,  337,  G09 ;  XVLT.  127. 

Baden.  System  of  Public  Instruction ;  Primary,  X. 
201.  Secondary,  XI.  233.  Seminary  for  Orphans 
at  Beuggen,  TTT,  383. 

Bavaria.  System  of  Public  Instruction,  VI.  273,  571 ; 
VLTI.  491.  Educational  Statistics,  I.  625. 

Belgium.    System  of  Public  Instruction,  VJJI.  581. 

Brunswick.    System  of  Public  Instruction,  XV.  447. 

Canada.  History  and  System  of  Public  Instruction  in 
Upper  Canada,  by  J.  G.  Hodgins,  I,  186.  Statistics 
of  Education  in  Upper  Canada,  XLtl.  •649-  Edu- 
cational Institutions  in  U.  and  L.  Canada,  U.  728. 

Denmark.    System  of  Public  Instruction,  XIV.  625. 

England.  Historical  Sketch  of  Elementary  Instruc- 
tion, X.  323.  British  and  Foreign  School  Society 
and  Borough  Road  Schools,  X.  371-459.  National 
Society  for  Promoting  the  Education  of  the  Poor, 

X.  499-574.    Home  and  Colonial  Infant  and  Juve- 
nile Society,  IX,  449.     Lord  John  Russell's  Scheme 
of  National  Education,  I.  638.     Ashburton  Prizes 
for  Teaching  Common  Things,  I.  629;  X.  93.    Miss 
Coutts'  Prizes,  U.  708.     Public  Endowed  or  Found- 
ation Schools,  IV.  807  ;    VIII.  257;    XV.  81-117. 
Appropriations  to  Education,  Science,  and  Art,  I. 
385  ;  H.  348  ;  X.  347. 

France.  System  of  Public  Instruction,  VI.  293 ;  IX. 
481-412.  Guizot's  Ministry  of  Public  Instruction, 

XI.  254,  357.    Statistics  of  Education,  IV.   257. 
Expenditures  for  Public  Instruction,  U.  337,  717. 

Free  Cities ;  Frankfort,  Hamburg,  Bremen,  and  Lii- 
beck.  System  of  Public  Instruction,  XV.  333. 

Germany.  History  and  Course  of  Primary  Instruction, 
VLTJ.  348-402.  Real  Schools,  V.  689-714.  Edu- 
cational Intelligence,  ITJ.  273  ;  IV.  245. 

Greece.  System  of  Public  Instruction,  XU.  571-592. 
Statistics  of  Education,  I,  628. 

Hanover.  System  of  Public  Instruction,  IV.  250 ; 
XV.  415,  752. 

Hesse 'Cassel.    System  of  Public  Instruction,  XV.  431. 

Hesse  Darmstadt.    Public  Instruction,  XIV.  409-430. 

Holland.  System  of  Public  Instruction,  IV.  801; 
VLTI.  595  ;  XIV.  495,  641-720.  Proposed  Revis- 
ion of  System,  U.  719.  Statistics  of  Public  Schools, 
I.  401.  Scheme  of  Christian  Education  adopted  at 
Dort,  1618,  V.  77. 

Honduras.     Condition  of  Education,  U.  236. 

Jndia.    Prepress  of  Education,  TJ-  727. 

Ireland.  Elementary  Education,  XL  133-154.  Sys- 
tem of  National  Education,  HI.  272 ;  IV.  363. 
National  Schools,  XHJ.  145.  Educational  Appro- 
priations, I.  390 ;  TJ.  348,  716.  Endowed  Grammar 
and  English  Schools,  XV.  721. 

Italy.  Institutions  for  Public  Instruction,  U.  721. 
History  of  Education,  VII.  413. 


Lippe-Detmold  and   Schaumburg  Lippe.    System  of 

Public  Instruction,  XV.  473,  576. 
Luxemburg  and  Limberg.    System  of  Public  Instruc- 
tion, XIV.  664. 
Mecklenburg.    System   of  Public  Instruction,   XV. 

459.    Ignorance  in,  LTJ.  278. 
Nassau.    System  of  Public  Instruction,  U.  444. 
New  South  Wales.    Statistics  of  Education,  I.  639. 
Norway.     System  of  Public  Instruction,  Vill.  295. 
Portugal.    System  of  Public  Instruction,  XVII. 
Prussia.     History  and  Statistics  of  Public  Instruction, 
IV.  245;  VUI.  403-434  ;  IX.  569.    Expenditures 
for  Public  Instruction  in   Prussia  and   France,  TJ. 
337.    Public  Schools  of  Berlin,  VUI.  440.     Fred- 
eric William  Gymnasium  and  Real  Schools  of  Ber- 
lin, V.  699.    Burgher  School   at  Halle,  VUI.  434. 
Higher  Burgher  School  of  Potsdam,  VILT.  457. 
Russia.     National  Education,  XIX  725 
Sardinia.    System  of  Public  Instruction,  JJI.  513; 

IV.  37,  479. 

Saxony.    System  of  Public  Instruction,  V.  350.    Sec- 
ondary Instruction,  TV.  251.    Burgher  School,  IX, 
201     Early  School  Code,  VI.  432. 
Scotland.    Elementary  Education,  IX.  215.    Paro- 
chial School  System,  TJ.  716  ;  VIJ.  319. 
Spain.    Public  Instruction,  XVII. 
Sweden.    Public  Instruction,  H.  720  ;  XVI.  639. 
Turkey.    System  of  Education,  U.  725. 
Wurtemburg.    Early  School  Code,  VI.  426.    System 

of  Public  Instruction,  XVIJ. 

UNITED  STATES.  Official  Exposition  of  Common 
Schools,  U.  257,  465-561.  School  Funds  and  Pub- 
lie  Instruction  in  the  several  States,  I.  371,  447. 
Statistics  of  Population,  Area,  and  Education  in 
1850,  I.  364.  Statistics  of  Public  Instruction  in 
Cities  and  large  Towns,  I.  458.  Educational 
Movements  in  the  several  States,  I.  234,  641 ;  U. 
257,  452,  734  ;  IV.  824.  Plan  of  Central  Agency 
for  Advancement  of  Education,  by  H.  Barnard,  I. 
134.  National  Bureau  of  Education,  XV.  180. 
Lord  Elgin  on  the  American  School  System,  m. 
239.  Education  among  the  Cherokees,  by  W.  P. 
Ross,  I.  120.  Schools  as  they  were  Sixty  Years 
ago,  XIU.  123,  737  ;  XVI.  National  Department 
of  Education,  XVII.  49.  Constitutional  Provision, 
XVU.  81.  Educational  Land  Policy,  XVLI.  65. 
Alabama.  School  Statistics,  I.  368,  371 ;  U.  464. 

Constitutional  Provision,  XVU. 
Arkansas.     Statistics,  I.  368,  371. 
California.    XVI.  625.     Statistics,  I.  372 ;  TJ.  467. 
Connecticut.     History  of  Common   Schools,   by  H 
Barnard,  IV.  657;  V.1 14;  XUL  725;  XIV.  244; 
XV.  275 ;  XVI.  333.    History  of  the  School  Fund, 
VI.   367-415.     Henry  Barnard's   Labors,-  I.   669. 
Public  Schools  and  other  Educational   Institutions, 
XI.  305.     Free  Academy  and   School   Movements 
in  Norwich,  U.  665  ;  UJ.  191.     Statistics,  I,  372; 
U,  469.    Constitutional  Provision,  XVU. 


32        CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD  S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


Delaware.    Statistics,  I.  368,  373 ;   n.  474. 

Florida.     Statistics,  I.  367, 374. 

Georgia.    I.  368,  374  ;  H.  477. 

Illinois.     1.368,375;  H.  479, 

Indiana.    I.  368,  375  ;  n.  480. 

Iowa.    I.  368,  374  ;  n. 

Kansas.     XVII. 

Kentucky.    I.  368,  377;  H.  488. 

Louisiana.    I.  368,  377  ;  n.  473. 

Mil  inc.    I.  368,  378  ;  n.  495. 

Maryland.    I.  368,  378. 

Massachusetts.  Doctrine  of  Free  Schools,  XV.  15. 
Analysis  of  Horace  Mann's  Reports,  V.  623.  School 
Superintendence ;  Memorial  of  American  Institute 
of  Instruction,  V.  653:  Legal  Recognition  of 
Teaching  as  a  Profession ;  Memorial  of  Worcester 
County  Teachers'  Association,  X,  297.  I.  368, 
379 ;  n.  499. 

Michigan.    I.  368,  447;  H.  510. 

Minnesota.    1.368. 

Mississippi.    I.  368,447. 

Missouri.    1.368,448. 

Nebraska.     XVII. 

Nevada.     XVII. 

New  Hampshire.    I.  368, '448  ;  H.  510. 

New  Jersey*.    I.  368,  449 ;  H.  517. 

New  York.    I.  368,  449  ;  n.  518 

North  Carolina.  I.  368,  451 ;  n.  527.  Schools  as 
they  were  in  1794,  XVI.  1- 

Ohio.  System  of  Common  Schools,  by  W.T.  Cogge- 
shall,  VI.  81,  532;  I.  368,  451  ;  H.  531. 


Oregon.    I.  368  ;  XVII, 

Pennsylvania.     History  of  Common  Schools,  VI.  107, 

555  ;  I.  368,  452  ;  n.  541. 
Rhode  Island.    I.  368,  454  ;  H.  544.    Labors  of  Henry 

Barnard,  I.  723. 
South  Carolina.    I.  368,  455 ;   n.  553.     Marion   on 

Free  Schools  for,  XVI.  119. 
Tennessee.    I.  368,  455. 
Texas.    1.368,445. 
Vermont.     I.  368,  466. 
Virginia.    I.  368,  457  ;  Gov.  Wise  on  Education,  H. 

557. 

West  Virginia.    XVII. 
Wisconsin.    I.  368,  457. 
District  of  Columbia.     XVII. 
Cities.    Statistics  of  Population,  I.  479.    Gradation 

of  Schools  for,  XV.  316,  309.     Reports  on,  I.  458. 
Boston :  Edward  Everett  and  the  Boston  Schools,  I. 

64-2.     Latin  Grammar  School  of  Boston,  XII.  529. 

Girls  in  the  Public  Schools  of  Boston,  XIII.  243. 

Dedication  of  the  Everett  School  House,  IX.  633. 

Report  of  N.   Bishop,  I.  458.    School  Houses  in, 

XVI.  701. 
Chicago   High  School,  by  W.  H.  Wells,  m.  531. 

Retirement  of  Mr.  Wells,  XTV.  811. 
Cincinnati ;  Woodward  High  School,  IV.  520. 
New  York  City.     Public  School  Society,  XV.  489.' 
Philadelphia  High  School,  by  J.  S.  Hart,  I.  93.    Report 

on  Public  Schools,  I.  465. 
Providence  :  Report  on,  I.  468. 
St.  Louis  System  of  Public  Instruction,  I.  348. 


VI.    SECONDARY,  INTERMEDIATE  AND  ACADEMICAL  SCHOOLS. 


Anhalt.    Gymnasiums  and  Higher  Schools,  XV.  346. 
Austria.     System  and  Statistics  of  Secondary  Instruc- 
tion, IX.  598.    XVI.  465.    XVH.  127. 
Baden.     System  of  Sec.  instruction,   XI.  233-253. 
Bavaria.     Secondary  Schools,  VIII.  491-521. 
Belgium.     Secondary  Schools,  VIII.  587. 
Brunswick.    Classical  Schools,  XV.  456. 
Canada.    Secondary  Schools,  XIII.  649. 
Denmark.    Outline  of  System   and  Statistics,  XIV. 

625. 
England.    Public  or  Foundation  Schools,  Vm.  257  ; 

XV.  81.    Mr.   Sewall's  School  at  Radleigh,  IV. 

803.    St.  Mary's  College  at  Winchester,  XVI.  501. 

St.  Paul's  School   in   London,   XVI.   667.     Eton 

College,  XVir 
France.    Lyceums  and  Secondary  Schools,  VI,  294. 

Statistics  of  Secondary  Education  in  1843,  IX.  400. 

Secondary  Instruction  under  Guizot's  Ministry,  XL 

357.     Schools  of  Preparation   for  the  Polytechnic 

School,  XII.  47. 
Free  Cities.    Gymnasiums  and  Secondary  Institutions, 

XV.  339. 
Greece.    Secondary  Schools,  Gymnasiums,  &c.,  XII. 

581. 
Hanover.    Real  Schools  and  Girls'  High  School,  IV. 

250.    Secondary  Instruction,  XV.  753-781. 
Hesse-Cassel.    Secondary  Institutions,  XV.  435. 


Hesse-Darmstadt.  Classical,  Real,  Trades,  and  Higher 
Femnle  School  Systems,  XIV.  419. 

Holland.    Secondary  Schools,  XIV.  654. 

Ireland.  Endowed  Grammar  and  English  Schools, 
XV.  721. 

Mecklenburg.    Secondary  Schools,  XV.  465. 

Nassau.     Secondary  Education,  H.  445. 

Norway.  Burgher,  Real,  and  Learned  Schools,  VHI. 
301. 

Prussia.  Statistics  of  Secondary  Instruction,  H.  341 ; 
IV.  247.  Higher  Institutions  of  Berlin,  V.  699. 
Secondary  Education,  IX.  569. 

Sardinia.    Secondary  Instruction,  HI.  518;  IV.  37. 

Saxony.  '  Real  and  Classical  Schools,  V.  354 ;  IV. 
251.  Secondary  Education,  IX.  201. 

United  States.  Historical  Development  of  Incorpora- 
ted Academies,  XVI.  403.  Stntisties  of  Acade- 
mies, &c.  in  1850,  I.  368;  Lawrence  Academy, 
Groton,  Mass.,  I.  49.  Williston  Seminary,  East- 
hampton,  Mass.,  H.  173.  Norwich  Free  Academy, 
Norwich,  Conn.,  H.  665  ;  HI.  190.  Public  High 
School  in  Chicago,  III.  531.  Woodward  High 
School  in  Cincinnati,  IV.  520.  Phillips  Academy, 
Andover,  Mass.,  VI,  73.  Phillips  Academy,  Exe- 
ter, N.  H.,  VI.  76.  Boston  Latin  School,  XII.  529. 
Public  Grammar  Schools  of  Philadelphia,  XIII. 
818. 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


33 


VII.   UNIVERSITY  AND 

Signification  of  the  term  University,  IX,  49-56. 

University  Honors,  VIII.  313. 

University  Studies  und  Teaching,  Rnumer,  VII-  201. 

Classical  Education.  Erasmus'  Views,  IV.  729.  Da- 
vid Cole  upon,  I.  67.  Discussion  before  the  Amer- 
ican Association,  I.  86.  S.  P.  Bates,  XV.  155. 
Speaking  and  Writing  Latin,  Rnumer,  VII.  471. 

College  Education  and  Self-Education,  IV.  2(>2. 

Prayers  in  Colleges,  by  F.  D.  Huntington,  IV.  23. 

College  Code  of  Honor,  by  Horace  Mann,  HI,  65. 

Authorities  upon  the  History  of  Universities,  and 
Academical  Degrees,  H.  747;  VII.  49;  IX.  56. 

Canada.  University  nnd  Colleges  of  Upper  and 
Lower  Canada,  n.  728  ;  VII.  188  ;  XLLT.  649. 

England.     Government  Grants  in  1856,  H.  348.     Ox- 

.  ford  Commemoration,   H.  234.     Expenses  in  Eton 

College   in   1560,  IV.   259.     University   for  Legal 

Education,  I.  386.     Working  Men's  College,  I.  389. 

France.     University  and  Colleges,  VI.  296. 

Germany.  German  Universities  in  the  Sixteenth  Cen- 
tury, from  Raumer,  V.  535.  History  of  German 
Universities,  from  Raumer,  VI.  9-65;  VII.  47-152. 
Student  Societies  in  German  Universities,  VH.  160. 
Essays  on  the  Improvement  of  German  Universities, 
from  Raumer,  VLT.  200-251.  Statistics,  I.  401. 

Greece.     The  Otho  University,  XLT.  591. 

Holland.     Condition  of  the  Universities.  I.  397. 

Ireland.     Queen's  Colleges  and  University,'  IX.  579- 

Prussia.    Receipts  and  Expend,  of  Universities,  H.  338. 

Russia.     Universities,  I.  38J. 


COLLEGE  EDUCATION. 

Sardinia.     University  Education,  IV.  43. 

Saxony.     University  of  Leipsic,  V.  362. 

Scotland.     University  of  Edinburg,  IV.  821. 

Wurtemburg.     University  of  Tubingen,  IX.  57. 

United  States.  Characteristics  of  American  Colleges, 
by  C.  C.  Felton,  LX.  122. 

Improvements  Practicable  in  American  Colleges,  by 
F.  A.  P.  Barnard,  I.  175,  269. 

Consolidation  and  other  Modifications  of  American 
Colleges,  by  Alonzo  Potter,  I.  471. 

An  American  University,  by  B.  A.  Gould,  H,  265- 
293.  By  A.  D.  Bache,  I.  477.  By  an  Alabumian, 
m.  213.  Discussion,  I.  86. 

Society  for  the  Promotion  of  Collegiate  and  Theolog- 
ical Education  at  the  West,  I.  235  ;  XV-  201. 

Statistics  of  New  England  Colleges  in  1855-6,  I.  405. 

Harvard  University.  History,  IX.  129.  Grants  and 
Donations  to,  IX.  139-165.  Progress  under  Pres. 
Felton,  X.  293.  Museum  of  Zoology,  IX.  613. 

Yale  College.  History,  V.  541-566.  Elihu  Yale,  V. 
715.  List  of  Deceased  Benefactors,  X.  61)3.  De- 
partment of  Philosophy  and  the  Arts,  I.  459,  In- 
fluence of, -by  F.  A.  P.  Barnard,  V.  723;  by  W. 
B.  Sprague,  X.  681. 

Illinois  College.     History,  I.  225. 

Transylvania  University,  Kentucky,  HI.  217. 

Cumberland  University,  Tennessee;  History,  IV.  765. 

University  Convocation  of  New  York,  XV.  502. 

St.  John's  College,  Maryland,  Charter,  XVI.  549. 
Report  on  Reorganization,  XVI.  539. 


VIII.    SCHOOLS  OF  SCIENCE  AND  ARTS;  MUSEUiMS,  &C. 


Democratic  Tendencies  of  Science,  D.  Olmsted,  I.  164. 

Progress  of  Science  in  the  United  States,  I.  641. 

Science  and  Scientific  Schools,  by  J.  D.  Dana,  LI.  349. 

Schools  of  Science  and  Art,  X.  216. 

Physical  Science.     By  H.  J.  Anderson,  I.  515-532. 

Scientific  Schools  in  Europe,  by  D.  C.  Gilman,  I.  315. 

Department  of  Science  and  Art,  Eng.,  LI.  233,  715. 

Higher  Special  Schools  of  Science  and  Literature  in 
France,  by  D.  C.  Gilman,  LT.  93. 

Special  Instruction  in  Science  and  Art  in  France, 
IX.  405. 

Polytechnic  Schools.  At  Paris,  VLTI.  661 ;  XLT. 
51-130.  Le  Verrier's  Report  upon  Mathematical 
Study  preparatory  to  the  Polytechnic  School  of 
Paris,  I.  533-550;  LI,  177-192.  Conditions  for 
Admission,  XHI.  678.  Polytechnic  Institute  at 
Vienna,  VLH.  670.  Polytechnic  School  at  Carls- 
ruhe,  XI-  209.  Polytechnic  School  at  Zurich,  XI. 
218.  Polytechnic  Schools  of  Bavaria,  VLTI.  510. 

Russia.    Schools  of  Special  Instruction,  I,  382. 

Lawrence  Scientific  School  at  Cambridge,  I.  216. 

Scientific  Department  in  Yale  College,  I.  359. 

Cooper  Scientific  Union,  New  York,  I.  652;  IV-  526. 

Industrial  School  at  Chemnitz,  HI.  252  ;  IV-  798. 

School  of  Mines  at  Freyburg,  Saxony,  LX.  167. 


Drawing ;  Report  of  a  French  Commission,  H.  419. 

Art  Education,  by  Miss  M.  A.  Dwight,  H.  409-587; 
HE.  467  ;  IV.  191 ;  V.  305. 

On  a  College  of  Architecture,  by  D.  B.  Reid,  H.  629. 

Dudley  Observatory,  H.  593.  Uses  of  Astronomy, 
by  E.  Everett,  H,  605-628. 

United  States  CoasfSurvey,  I.  103. 

Geological  Hall  and  Agricultural  Rooms  of  New 
York,  IV.  785. 

British  Museum,  VHI.  314.  British  Museum  of 
Practical  Geology,  VI.  239.  Museum  of  Compara- 
tive Zoology  at  Harvard,  IX.  613.  Educational 
Uses  of  Museums,  by  Prof.  E.  Forbes,  IV.  785. 

Institute  of  Agriculture  and  Forestry  at  llohenheim, 
VLTI.  564.  At  Tharand,  Saxony,  IV.  797. 

Agricultural  Education  in  France,  VHI.  545-563. 
In  Ireland,  VHI.  567-580. 

Plan  of  Agricultural  School,  by  J.  A.  Porter.  I,  329. 

Hartlib's  Plan  of  a  College  of  Husbandry,  XI.  191. 

Mechanics'  Institutes  in  England,  I,  388 ;  H.  712. 

Plan  of  a  Trade  School,  by  Sir  W.  Pelty,  1647,  XI.  199. 

Industrial  Training  of  Poor,  X.  81.  Industrial  Schools 
in  England,  I.  653.  Ireland,  I,  545.  Belgium,  I. 
384  ;  VOL.  588.  Bavaria,  VLH.  510.  Nassau,  H. 
446.  Saxony,  IV.  252,  798.  Wurtemburg,  IV,  799. 


34       CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


IX.    MILITARY  AND  NAVAL  EDUCATION. 


Physical  and  Military  Exercises  in  Public  Schools  a 
National  Necessity,  by  E.  L.  Molineux,  XI.  513. 

Military  Schools  and  Education  in  England,  IV.  808  ; 
XIV.  523.  France,  I.  626;  XII.  7-274.  Hol- 
land, XIV.  241.  Prussia,  XII.  275-399 ;  Vm. 
437.  Russia,  I,  383;  XIV.  503.  Switzerland, 
XIII,  689-710.  Sardinia,  XIII.  455.  Austria, 
XIII.  409-446,  711.  Persia,  II.  727. 

United  States;  Military  Academy  at  West  Point, 
17-48.  Regulations  for  Admission,  XIII. 


659.  Report  of  Visitors,  1863,  XLTI.  661 ;  XV. 
51.  On  the  Conditions  for  Admission,  by  H.  Bar- 
nard, XIV,  103-127.  Military  Acndemy  at  Nor- 
wich, Vt.,  Xm.  65.  Eagleswo  .d  Military  Acad- 
emy, at  Perth  Amboy,  N.  J.,  XIII.  471. 

Naval  and  Navigation  Schools  in  England,  XTV. 
627 ;  XV.  65. 

French  Naval  School  at  Brest,  XLT.  263. 

United  Stntes  Naval  Academy;  Report  of  Visitors, 
1864,  XV.  17-50. 


X.    PREVENTIVE  AND  REFORMATORY  EDUCATION. 


Education  a  Preventive  of  Misery  and  Crime,  by  E. 
C.  Tainsch,  XI-  77. 

Crimes  of  Children  and  their  Prevention,  I,  345. 

Publications  on  Reformatory  Education,  HI,  812. 

Family  Training  and  Agricultural  Labor  in  Reforma- 
tory Education,  I.  609-624. 

Crime,  Pauperism,  and  Education  in  G.  Brit.,  VI.  311. 

Preventive  and  Reformatory  Education,  TTT,  561-818. 
Reform  Schools  in  England,  HI.  753.  In  Ireland, 
HI.  807.  In  Scotland,  HI.  801.  In  France,  HI, 
653.  In  Holland,  HI.  619.  In  Italy,  TTT,  580. 
In  Switzerland,  HI,  591. 

Reformatory  Establishment  of  Dusselthal  Abbey, 
Prussia,  H.  231. 

Prison  for  Juvenile  Criminals,  Isle  of  Wight,  TTT,  19. 

Wichern  and  the  Rauhe  Haus,  TTT,  5,  10,  603 ;  IV. 
824. 

XI.    EDUCATION  FOR  DEAF- 

Statistics  of  tlie  Deaf,    Dumb,   Blind,  Insane,   and 

Idiotic  in  the  U.  S.  in  1850, 1.  650. 
Statistics  of  the   Deaf  and   Dumb  Institutions  in  the 

United  States,  I.  444. 

American  Asylum  for  the  Deaf  and  Dumb,  I,  440. 
N.  Y.  Institution  for  the  Deaf  and  Dumb,  HI.  347. 
Institutions  and  Instruction  for  the.  Blind,  by  L.  P. 

Brockett,  IV.  127. 
Valentine  Flaiiy  and  the  Instruction  of  the  Blind,  HI. 

177 ;  IV.  130. 


Agricultural  Reform  Schools  in  Belgium  and  France, 

TTT.  621-736. 
Agricultural  Colonies  of  France,  particularly  Mettray, 

I,  609  ;   TTT  653. 
Reformatory  Education  in  the  United  States,  IV.  824; 

Statistics  of  State  and  City  Reform  Schools  in  the 

United  States,  HI.  811 ;   VHI.  339. 
State  Induslrinl  School  for  Grrls,  at  Lancaster,  Mass., 

IV.  359;  XVI.  652. 
Mode     of    Improving    Factory    Population,    VIH. 

305. 
Special  Training  of  Women  for  Social  Employments, 

HI,  485. 
International   Philanthropic  Congress  at  Brussels,  H. 

236 ;  HI.  231. 
Industrial  Trnining  of  the  Poor,  I.  384,  635  ;  H,  446; 

HI.  585;  IV,  252,  798;  X,  81. 

MUTES,  HLIMI  AND  IDIOTS. 

Account  of  Laura  Bridgman,  by  S.  G.  Howe,  IV,  383. 
Idiots  and   Institutions  for  their  Training,  by  L.  P. 

Brockett.  I,  593. 
Origin  of  Treatment  and  Training  of  Idiots,  by  E. 

Seguin,  H.  145. 

New  York  Asylum  for  Imbeciles  at  Syracuse,  IV,  416. 
Butler  Hospital   for  the  Insane,  at  Providence,  R.  I., 

HI.  309. 
Insanity  as  the  Result  of  Misdirected  Education,  by 

E.  Jarvis,  IV.  591. 


XII.    MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  EDUCATION;  DENOMINATIONAL  SCHOOLS. 


Thoughts  on  Religion  and  Public  Schools,  by  George 

Burgess,  H.  562. 

Christianity  in  Education,  from  Raumer,  VHI.  216. 
Religious  Instruction,  from  Raumer,  VH.  401. 
Religious  and  Moral  Instruction    in    Public  Schools ; 

Discussion  by  the  American  Association,  H,  153. 
Importance  and  Methods  of  Moral  Training,  by  G.  F. 

Thayer,  HI.  71. 

Best  Methods  of  Moral  Teaching,  by  C.  Brooks,  I.  336. 
Moral  and    Mental   Discipline,    by   Z.   Richards,   I, 

107. 
Formation  of  Moral  Character,  the  Main  Object  of 

Schools,  by  M.  F.  Cowdery,  XVI,  353. 


Moral  Education,  by  W.  Russell,  IX.  19-48  ;  Fellen- 

berg,  HI.  595  ;    Kriisi,  V.  193  ;    Lalor,  XVI.  48 ; 

Locke,  XI.  473  ;  XHI.  548;  Spencer,  XI.  496. 
Aphorisms  on  Religious  and  Moral  Training,  X    166; 

XH.  407. 

Prayers  in  Colleges,  by  F.  D.  Huntington,  IV.  23. 
Catholic   Educational   Establishments  in  the  United 

States,  H.  435. 

The  Hieronymians;  from  Raumer,  IV.  622. 
Jesuits    and   their  Schools,  XTV,   455-482.      From 

Raumer,  V.  213 ;  VI.  615. 
The    Christian    Brothers,    (Freres   Chretiens,)    HI. 

437. 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD  S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION.       35 


XIII.    EDUCATION  AND  SCHOOLS  FOR  FEMALES. 


Aphorisms    upon     Femule    Education,    XITT,    232. 

Views  of  German  Authorities,  XHL  495. 
St.  Jerome— Letter  to  Lseta  oil  the  Education  of  her 

Daughter,  V,  593. 

E.  Everett,  Female  Education,  IX.  635 ;  XII.  721. 
Educiition  of  Girls,  from  Raumer,  X.  227,  613. 
Mental  Education  of  Women,  by  C.  McKeen,  I.  567. 
Training  of  Women  for  Social  Employments,  ITT,  485. 
Sisters  of  Charity— Mrs.  Jameson.  TTT,  495. 
Female  Adult  Education  in  Ireland,!.  634. 
School  for  Girls  in  Paris,  I.  394. 


Girls  in  the  Public  Schools  of  Boston,  XJH.  243. 

Female  Colleges  in  the  State  of  Ohio,  XTTT.  267. 

New  York  Grammar  School  for  Girls,  I,  408.  Packer 
Collegiate  Institute  for  Girls,  I.  579.  Young  Ladies' 
High  School,  Providence,  R.  I.,  V.  14.  Troy  Fe- 
male Seminary,  VI.  145.  Mt.  Holyoke  Female 
Seminary,  X.  670.  Bailey's  Young  Ladies'  High 
School,  Boston,  XII.  435.  Ohio  Female  College, 
College  Hill,  XIH.  503.  Girls'  High  School, 
Charleston,  S.  C.,  XTTT  620.  Vassar  College,  XI. 

55.  xvn. 


XIV.    PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 


Aphorisms  and  Suggestions  upon  Physical  Training, 

vni.  75. 

Physical  Education;  by  Raumer,  VUI.  185.  By 
Locke,  XI,  462.  By  Lalor,  XVI.  34.  By  Spen- 
cer, XI.  485. 

Health  of  Teachers,  by  Miss  C.  E.  Beecher,  TJ.  399. 

Physical  Exercises,  by  S.  W.  Mason,  XTV.  61. 

New  Gymnastics,  by  Dio  Lewis,  XI.  531 ;  XII.  665. 


Physical  and  Military  Exercises  in  Schools  a  National 

Necessity,  by  E.  L.  Molineux,  XI.  513. 
Plays,  Pastimes,  and  Holidays  of  Children,  by  Horace 

Bushnell,  XTTT  93. 
Progressive  Development  of  Physical  Culture  in  the 

United  States,  XV.  231. 
Military  Gymnastic   School    at  Vincennes,  France, 

XH.  265. 


XV.    SUPPLEMENTARY,  SELF  AND  HOME  EDUCATION. 


Hints  on  Reading;  Selections  from  Authors,  by  T.  H. 
Vail,  TJ.  215. 

Advice  to  Students  and  Young  Men  on  Education, 
Studies,  and  Conduct,  XV.  377  ;  XVI.  187,  216, 
223. 

Pestalozzi — Address  on  Christmas  Eve,  VH.  701.  On 
New  Year's,  VII.  712.  Paternal  Instructions, 
VIJ.  722. 

Home  Education  ;  Labors  of  Rev.  W.  Burton,  H.  333. 

College  and  Self-education,  by  D.  Masson,  IV.  262. 

Lowell  Lectures,  V.  439. 

Mechanics'  Institutes.  VTTT,  250. 

Origin  of  Lyceums,  VTTT,  249.  The  American  Ly- 
ceum, XTV.  535-558. 


Lyceums,  Mechanics'  Institutes  and  Libraries  in  Eng- 
land, L  388 ;  II.  712  ;  TTT  241-272. 

Statistics  of  Libraries  in  Europe,  I.  370  ;  TJ.  214.  In 
the  United  States  in  1850,  I.  369. 

Libraries  for  Teachers  in  France,  XTTT,  293.  Econ- 
omic Library,  England,  III,  271. 

Astor  Library,  I,  648.  Boston  Public  Library,  TJ. 
203;  VH,  252.  Baltimore  Public  Library,  ITJ. 
226.  Worcester  Free  Public  Library,  XTTT,  606. 
Providence  Atheneum,  ILL,  308.  Lawrence  Li- 
brary for  Factory  Operatives,  I.  649. 

Management  of  Libraries — Edward's  Library  Manual, 
TJ.  210. 

Books  of  Reference,  YJLli.  315. 


XVI.    EDUCATIONAL  ASSOCIATIONS. 


Association  for  Educational  Purposes,  by  H.  Barnard, 

XIV.  366 ;  XV.  819. 

American  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Edu- 
cation, I.  3-136,  234 ;  XV.  267. 

American  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Sci- 
ence, ITJ,  147. 

American   Association   for  the  Supply  of  Teachers, 

XV.  237. 

American  Common  School  Society,  XV,  247. 

American  Education  Society,  XTV.  367. 

American  Institute  of  Instruction,  H.  19,234.  Index 
to  Lecturers  and  Subjects,  U.  241.  Memorial  on 
State  School  Superintendence,  V.  653.  Biographi- 
cal Sketches  of  Presidents,  XV,  211. 

American  Lyceum,  XTV.  535. 

American  School  Society,  XV.  118. 

American  Social  Science  Association,  XVI.  391. 


American  Sunday  School  Union,  XV.  705 

American  Women's  Educational  Asso.,  XV,  273. 

Baltimore  County  and  City  Association,  XVI.  377. 

Board  of  National  Popular  Education,  XV.  271. 

Boston  Associated  Instructors  of  Youth,  XV.  527. 

British  and  Foreign  School  Society,  X.  371-459. 

College  Delegates  (New  England)  Association,  XVU. 

Guild  of  Schoolmasters,  XV.  337. 

Home  and  Colonial  Infant  and  Juvenile  Society,  IX. 
449-486. 

Literary  and  Scientific  Convention ;  New  York,  1830, 
XV,  221. 

National  Associations,  XV.  237,  823. 

National  Association  (England)  for  Promotion  of 
Social  Science,  IV,  818. 

National  Convention  and  Association  of  Superintend- 
ents of  Schools,  XVI.  389. 


36 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


National  Organization  of  Teachers,  by  W.  Russell, 

XIV.  7. 

National  Teachers'  Association  ;  Proceedings,  XIV. 
5-92,  593.  Its  Nature  and  Objects,  by  J.  D.  Phil- 
brick,  XTV.  49. 

National  Society  (England)  for  Promoting  the  Educa- 
tion of  the  Poor,  X.  499-474. 

National   Society  of  Science,  Literature,   and   Arts, 

XV.  61. 

New  York  (City)  Society  of  Teachers,  XIV.  807; 
XV.  491.  Teachers'  Associations,  XV.  495. 

New  York  University  Convocation,  XV.  502. 

North-Western  Educational  Society,  XV.  275. 

Public  School  Society  of  New  York,  XV.  489. 

Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge,  XV. 
239. 

Society  for  Promoting  Manual  Labor  in  Literary  In- 
stitutions, XV.  231. 

Society  for  the  Promotion  of  Collegiate  and  Theolog- 
ical Education  at  the  West,  I.  235;  XV.  261. 

State  Convention  of  County  Superintendents ;  New 
York,  XV.  505. 

TEACHERS'  ASSOCIATIONS  in  France,  XIH,  293. 

General  Assembly  of  German  Teachers,  IV.  258. 

United  Association  of  Schoolmasters,  Eng.,  TTTt  262. 


Teachers'  Conferences  and  other  Modes  of  Profes- 
sional Improvement,  XIH.  273. 

Western  Literary  Institute  and  College  of  Professional 
Teachers,  XIV.  739. 

Middlesex  County  (Conn.)  School  Association,  XIV, 
397 :  XV. 

State  Teachers'  Associations,  Educational  Societies 
and  Conventions — Alabama,  XVI,  375.  Arkansas, 
XVI.  381.  California,  XVI.  785.  Connecticut, 

XV.  393.     Delaware,  XVI.  369.     Florida,  XVI, 
381.      Georgia,   XVI.    358.     Illinois,  XVI.    149. 
Indiana,    XVI,    7(55.     Iowa,  XVI,  745.     Kansas, 

XVI.  385.      Kentucky,  XVI.   352.      Louisiana, 
XVI.  382.     Maine,  XVI.  777.     Maryland,  XVI. 
377.     Massachusetts,   XV.    507.     Michigan,   XV, 
633.     Minnesota,  XVLT.     Mississippi,  XVI.    381. 
Missouri,  XVI.  365.     New  Hampshire,  XVI.  751. 
New   Jersey,   XVI.   729.     New  York,  XVI,  349, 
477.     North  Carolina,  XVI.  361.     Ohio,  VI.  532. 
Oregon,    XVI.    383.      Pennsylvania,    XV.    «47. 
Rhode  Island,  XIV.  559.    South  Carolina,  XVI. 
364.    Tennessee,   XVI.   357.     Texns,   XVI.   373. 
Vermont,  XV.  617.     Virginia,   XVI-    172.     Wis- 
consin, XIV.  583  ;  XVII.     District  of  Columbia, 
XVI.  380.     West  Virginia,  XVI.  383. 


XVII.    PHILOLOGY  AIVD  BIBLIOGRAPHY. 


Philological  Contributions,  by  J.  W.  Gibbs,  n.  198 ; 

TTT,  101-124. 
English   Language  in  Society  and  the  School,,  by  M. 

H.  Buckham,  XIV.  343. 
Study  of  the    Anglo-Saxon,   or  the   Relation  of  the 

English  to  other  Languages,  by  J.  S.  Hart,  I.  33. 
Dictionary  of  the  English  Language;    Requirements 

in  a  Lexicographer,  by  Isaiah  Dole,  Hi.  161. 
Modern  Greek  Language,  by  S.  G.  Howe,  n.  193. 
Latin  Language,  from  Raumer,  VII.  471. 
Early  Illustrated  School  Books,  XIII.  205.    Primers 

and   Hornbooks,  VHI.   310.      ABC  Books  and 

Primers,  XII,  593. 


Books  of  Reference,  VH[.  315. 

American   Text   Books — Catalogue  of  Authors   and 

Books,  XH[,  209,  401,  626;  XIV.  601,  751 ;  XV. 

539. 
Educational   Literature— Book  Notices,  I.  415;  H. 

256,  737,  739  ;    IV.  261,  272,  831  ;    V.  318  ;    IX, 

351 ;  XI.  319  ;  XIH,  223,  652  ;  XIV.  400. 
Statistics    of    Newspapers    nnd    Periodicals    in    the 

United  States  in  1850, 1.  651. 
Educational   Periodicals    of   America,  I,   413,   656. 

Complete  List,  XV.  383. 
English    Educational  Journals,   I,   414.     French,   I. 

413.    German,  I.  413.    Italian,  IV.  802. 


XVIII.    SCHOOL  ARCHITECTURE. 


Defects  in  School  Constructions,  IX,  487. 

Principles  and  Practical  Illustrations  of  School  Archi- 
tecture, by  Henry  Barnard,  IX.  487  ;  X.  695;  XI. 
563  ;  XH.  701 ;  XIH.  817  ;  XTV.  778  ;  XV. 
782 ;  XVI.  701. 

District  Schools,  or  for  Children  of  every  nge.  Plan 
by  H.  Mann,  IX.  540 ;  by  G.  B.  Emerson,  542, 
548  ;  by  H.  Barnard,  550,  553,  555  ;  by  R.  S.  Burt, 
556;  by  T.  A.  Teft,  559;  by  A.  D.  Lord,  562  ;  by 
D.  Leach,  563. 

Primary  and  Infant  Schools.  General  Principles,  X, 
695.  Playground  and  Appliances,  X,  697.  School- 
room, by  Wllderspein,  X,  699 ;  by  Chambers,  702  ; 
by  British  and  Foreign  School  Society,  705:  by 
National  Society,  706  ;  by  Committee  of  Council 
on  Education,  710 ;  by  Dr.  Dick,  714  ;  by  J.  Ken- 
dal,  715 ;  by  J.  W.  Ingraham,  for  Boston  Primary 


Schools,  718;  by  J.  D.  Philbrick,  740  ;  by  New  York 
Public  School  Society,  750 ;  in  Providence,  XI. 
583. 

Baltimore  Female  High  School,  V.  198 ;  Cincinnati 
Hughes  High  School,  XHI.  623;  Boston  Latin 
School,  XII.  551 ;  Woodward  High  School,  IV. 
522 ;  Chicago  High  School,  HE.  537  ;  High  School, 
Hartford,  XI.  606;  Public  High  School,  Middle- 
town,  XI.  612  ;  New  York  Free  Academy,  XIV. 
788;  Providence  Public  High  School,  XI.  597; 
Norwich  Free  Academy,  n.  696  ;  St.  Louis  High 
School,  I.  348. 

Seminaries  for  Girls.  Packer  Collegiate  Institute, 
Brooklyn,  I.  581 ;  Richmond  Female  College,  I. 
231;  Public  Grammar  School  for  Girls  in  New 
York,  I.  408;  Providence  Young  Ladies'  High 
School,  V.  14  ;  Vassar  College,  XVLT. 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


37 


Union  and  Graded  Schools — Plans,  Elevations,  &c., 
X.  503-612;  XLT.  701.  Union  School,  Ann  Ar 
bor,  Mich.,  VIII.  91.  Public  Floating  School, 
Baltimore,  V.  201.  Haven  School  Building,  Chi- 
cago, XIII.  610.  Nevvberry  Public  School,  Chi- 
cago, VI.  515.  Putnam  Free  School,  Newburyport, 
Mass.,  XILI.  616.  Public  Schools  No.  20  and  No. 
33,  New  York  City,  VI.  524.  School  Houses  in 
Philadelphia,  XIH.  817.  Graded  School,  Simcoe, 
U.  C.,  VIH.  67U.  Union  Public  School,  Ypsilanti, 
Mich.,  IV.  780.  Norwich  Central  School,  TJ.  699. 
Grammar  Schools — Plans.  Lincoln  Grammar  School, 
Boston,  VI.  518.  Dwight  Grammar  School,  Bos- 
ton, IV.  709.  Fifteenth  Ward  (N.  Y.)  Public 
Grammar  School  for  Girls,  I.  409.  Central  High 
School,  Philadelphia,  I.  i)2 ;  XLTI.  831.  Grammar, 
Providence,  XI.  5e8,  594.  Prescott  Grammar, 
XVI.  7 11. 

Normal  Schools — Plans,  Elevations,  &c.  Illinois  State 
Normal  School,  IV.  774.  New  Jersey  State  Nor- 
mal School,  TIT.  220.  Massachusetts  State  Normal 
School  at  Westfield,  XII.  653.  New  York  State 
Normal  School,  XLU.  539.  Philadelphia  City 
Normal  Schools,  XIV.  737.  Girls'  High  Normal 
School,  Charleston,  S.  C.,  XTTT,  620.  Normal  and 
Model  Schools  at  Toronto,  U.  C.,  XTV.  488.  Os- 
wego  Training  School,  XVI.  213.  New  Britain,  X. 
51.  Bridgewater  Normal  School,  XVI.  466.  Fra- 
mingham,  XVI.  469.  Salem,  XVI.  470. 
Public  Library,  Boston,  VLT.  252.  Cooper  Scientific 
Union,  N.  Y.,  I.  652.  Dudley  Observatory,  Albany, 
I.  594.  Yule  College  in  1764,  V.  722.  American 
Asylum  for  the  Deaf  and  Dumb,  PJartford,  Ct..  I. 
440.  New  York  Institution  for  the  Deaf  and  Dumb, 
III.  340.  New  York  Asylum  for  Imbeciles,  Syra- 
cuse, IV.  416.  N.  Y.  State  Geological  Hall,  IV.  781. 
Harvard  Hall,  V.  530.  Yale  College,  1764,  V.  722. 


Apparatus  for  Physical  Exercise,  IX.  530  ;  XI.  539  ; 

XLT.  677  ;  for  illustration,  XIV.  569. 
Blackboard    and    wall-surface,  IX.   546,   563 ;    X 

739 ;  XVI.  575. 
Crayons,  how  made,  XVI.  574. 
Dedicatory  Exercises  and  Addresses,  HI.  193  ;    IX. 

633  ;  XTTT.  836  ;  V.  648 ;  XLT.  655  ;  XTTT,  532  ; 

XVI.  453  ;  I.  645,  647. 
Drawing-room  and  Desks,  X,  554  ;  XIV.  795  ;  XVI. 

722. 
Furniture  for  Schools,  IX.  551  ;  X.  754  ;  XIJ.  687  ; 

Defective  Construction,  IX.  492,  518  ;    XI.  537  ; 

Chase's  Adjustable  Desk,  XHL  656;    Mott's  Re- 
volving Seat,  X.  563. 
Library  of  Reference,  I.  739  ;  IX.  545. 
Location   and  Playground,  IX.  492,  503,  507,  510, 

527,542;  X.  731. 
Privies  and  Facilities  for  Cleanliness,  IX.  520,  539 ; 

X.  728;  XI.  607;  XHL  853. 
Worming,  IX.  546,  552  ;  X.  705,  727  ;  Xlt  584, 598  ; 

XH.  832 ;  XVI.  579.  713. 
Ventilation  in  American  Dwellings,  V.  35.     In  School 

Houses,  IX.  563,  547,  568;    X.  724;    XIII.  612, 

832,  858  ;  XIV.  801 ;  XV.  782  ;  XVI.  716,  727. 
Ornamentation,   X.   731 ;    Mrs.   Sigourney  on,  732 ; 

Salem  High  School,  XTV.  804  ;  IX.  543. 
Specifications,  Terms  of,  X.  733  ;  XIJ.  708. 
Seats  and  Desks,  Arrangement  of,  IX.  551 ;  XI.  583; 

Xm.  656  ;  Octagonal  Plan,  XVI.  728 ;  Barnard's 

plan,  with  division,  X.  760,  761. 
Size  of  building,  XVI.  716. 
Stand,  movable,  for  blackboard,  XVI.  709. 
Furnaces,    XVI.    579,  582;    Hot-water    apparatus, 

XVI.  713. 
Rules  for  Care  of  School-house,  XIIL  851,  857 ;    for 

use  of  Furnaces,  XV.  803 ;    setting  furnace,  XVI. 

584. 


XIX.    EDUCATIONAL  ENDOWMENTS  AND  BENEFACTORS. 


Land  Grants  of  the  Federal  Government  for  Educa- 
tional Purposes,  to  1854,  I.  202 ;  XVU.  65. 

List  of  Benefactions  to  Harvard  University,  IX.  139. 

List  of  Deceased  Benefactors  of  Yale  College,  X.  693. 

Boston  Educational  Charities,  VUI.  528 ;  IX.  606. 

Individual  Benefactors.  Samuel  Appleton,  XH.  403. 
J.  J.  and  W.  B.  Astor,  I.  638.  Joshua  Bates,  VIJ. 
270.  John  Bromfield,  V.  521.  Nicholas  Brown, 
HI.  289.  Peter  Cooper,  IV.  526.  Thomas  Dowse,  . 
LTJ.  284;  IX.  355.  Mrs.  Blandina  Dudley,  U. 
593.  Edmund  Dwight,  IV.  5.  Peter  Faneuil,  IX. 
603.  Paul  Farnum,  IJJ.  397.  John  Green,  XIJJ. 


600.  John  Harvard,  V.  523.  Edward  Hopkins, 
IV.  668.  John  Hughes,  IV.  520.  William  Law-- 
rence,  JJ.  33.  John  Lowell,  V.  427.  Theodore 
Lyman,  X,  5.  James  McGill,  VLT.  188.  S.  J. 
North,  VI.  104.  George  Peabody,  I.  237  ;  TJ.  642 ; 
HJ.  226.  T.  H.  Perkins,  I.  551.  Miss  Caroline 
Plummer,  XILT.  73.  John  and  Samuel  Phillips, 
VI.  66.  Henry  Todd,  IV.  711.  Stephen  Van 
Rensselaer,  VI.  223.  Matthew  Vassar,  XI.  53. 
James  Wads  worth,  V.  389.  David  Watkinson,  IV. 
837.  Samuel  Williston,  JJ.  173.  William  Wood- 
ward, IV.  520.  Elihu  Yale,  V.  715. 


XX.    MISCELLANEOUS. 


The  Gyroscope,  or  Mechanical  Paradox,  II.  238.  Ex- 
planation of  the  Gyroscope,  by  E.  S.  Snell,  U.  701. 
Treatise  upon  the  Gyroscope,  by  Maj.  J.  G.  Barnard, 
HI.  537  ;  IV.  529  ;  V.  299. 

Lowe's  Printing  Press,  LX.  636. 

Stereoscope.  Educational  Uses  of,  IX.  632. 

Museum  of  Zoology,  IX.  61. 


Indexes.    Vol.  I.  ix.-xix. ;    TJ.  749  ;    IJJ.  819  ;   IV. 

839;  V.  851 ;  VI.  317,  623;  VIJ.  723  ;  VUJ.  681  ; 

IX.  637;    X.  763;    XI.  613 ;    XU.731;    XHJ. 

865  ;    XIV.  817  ;    XV.  829  ;  XVI.  791. 
General  Index  to  Vols.  I.  to  V.,  V.  857. 
Classified  Index  to  Vols.  I.   to  XVI..  XVU.   17- 

40. 


38        CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


XXI.    EDUCATIONAL  BIOGRAPHY  AND  LIST  OF  PORTRAITS. 


Abbot,  Benjamin,  VI.  80. 
Abbott,  Gorham  D.,  XVI.  600. 
Agricola,  Rudolph,  IV.  717. 
Adelung,  J.  C.,  XI.  451. 
Alcott,  W.  A  ,  IV.  629. 
Alcott,  A.  B.,  XVI.  130. 
Allen,  C.  H.,  XIV.  396. 
Allen,  F.  A.,  XV.  681. 
Allen,  W.,  X.  365. 
Alexander,  de  Villa  Dgi,  IV.  726. 
Andrews,  I.  W.,  XVI.  605. 
Acquaviva,  Claudius,  XIV.  462. 
Andrews,  L.,  XVI.  604. 
Appleton,  Samuel,  XLT,  403. 
Aristotle,  XIV.  131. 
Arey,  OHver,  XV.  484. 
Arnold,  Thomas  K.,  IV.  545. 
Astley,  J.,  IV.  165. 
Ascham,  Roger,  HE.  23. 
Aventinus,  XI.  163. 
Bailey,  Ebenezer,  XII.  429. 
Baker,  W.  M.,  XVI.  166. 
Baker,  W.  S.,  X.  592. 
Baldwin,  Theron,  XV.  261. 
Barnard,  F.  A.  P.,  V.  753. 
Barnard,  Henry,  I.  659, 
Barnard,  John,  I.  307. 
Barnes,  D.  H.,  XTV.  513. 
Bnsol,  Marquise  de,  LU.  510. 
Basedow,  T.  B.,  V.  487. 
Basedow,  Emile,  V.  491. 
Bateman,  Newton,  XVI.  165. 
Bates,  J.,  VII,  270. 
Bates,  S.  P.,  XV.  682. 
Beck,  T.  Romeyn,  I.  654. 
Beecher,  Miss  C.  E .,  XV.  250. 
Benton,  A.  R.,  XVI.  775. 
Bell,  Andrew,  X.  467. 
Bild,  V.  66. 

Bingham,  Caleb,  V.  325. 
Bishop,  Nathan,  XVI. 
Blewett,  B.  T.,  XVI.  431. 
Bodiker,  J.,  XI.  437. 
Boccaccio,  VII.  422. 
Boyd,  E.  J.,  XV.  645. 
Braidwood,  J  ,  HI.  348. 
Bridgman,  Laurn,  IV.  383 
Brainerd,  J.,  XVI.  331. 
Borgi,  Jean,  I.  583. 
Bromfield,  John,  V.  521. 
Brooks,  Charles,  I.  581. 
Brougham,  Lord,  VI.  467. 
Brown,  J.  Horace,  XV.  764. 
Brown,  Nicholas,  HI.  291. 
Buckingham,  J.  T.,  XLU.  129. 
Buckley,  J.  W,  XIV.  28. 
Burrowes,  T.  H.,  VI.  107,  555. 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCHES. 

Burtt.  Andrew,  XV,  679. 

Burton,  Warren,  H.  333. 

Busch,  V.  727. 

Butler,  Caleb,  LT.  54. 

Butler,  J.  D.,  XVII. 

Butler,  Cyrus,  III.  310. 

Buss,  Johannes,  V.  293. 

Caldwell,  C.,  XVI.  109. 

Calhoun,  W.  B.,  XV.  212. 

Csesarius,  J.,  IV.  2  5. 

Carlton,  Oliver.  XV.  523. 

Carter,  James,  V.  337. 

Carter,  J.  G.,  V.  407. 

Cecil,  Sir  W.,  IV.  161. 

Cheever,  Ezekid,  1. 297 ;  XH.  530. 

Cheke,  Sir  John,  IV.  163. 

Chrysoloras,  Emanuel,  VH.  440. 

Clajus,  Johannes,  XI.  412. 

Claxton,  Timothy,  VIH.  253. 

Clerc,  Laurent,  HE.  349. 

Coburn,  C.  R..  XV.  679. 

Coclenius,  C.,IV.  2  5. 

Coffin,  J.  H.,  XVI.  784. 

Colburn,  Dana  P.,  XI.  289. 

Colburn,  Warren,  H.  294. 

Colet,  John,  VIII.  291 ;  XVI.  405. 

Comenius,  V.  25. 

Cosmo  de  Medici,  VH.  445. 

Conover,  A.  M..  XIV.  393. 

Cowley,  A.,  XII.  <  51. 

Courteilles,  M.de,  HI.  704. 

Corston,  William,  X.  363. 

Corfe,P.  A.,  IV.  4!H. 

Cowdrey,  M.  F.,  XVI.  589. 

Craig,  A.  J.,  XIV.  394. 

Crato.  V. 

Cross,  M.  K.,  XVI.  751. 

Cruikshank,  J.,  XV.  485. 

Crozet.  Claude,  XHL  31. 

Curtis,  Joseph,  I.  655. 

Curtis,  T.  W.  T.,  XV.  607. 

Dante,  VH.  418. 

Davies,  Charles,  XV.  479. 

Davis,  Wm.  Van  L.,  XV.  675. 

Day.  J.,  XVI.  126. 

Dentnan,  XV.  395. 

Denzel,  B.  G.,  VLT.  315. 

Delillee,  J.,  HE.  158. 

Dewey,  Chester,  XV.  477. 

Dewitt,  G.  A..  V.  17. 

Diesterweg,  VII.  312. 

Dick,  James,  I.  392. 

Dinter,  VLT.  153. 

Donatus,  XVLT. 

Dowse,  Thomas,  m.  284 ;  IX.  355. 

Dringenberg,  Louis,  V.  65 

Dudley,  Mrs.  E.,  H.  598. 


Dunnell,  M.  H.,  XVI.  783. 
Duncan,  Alexander,  III.  311. 
Dwight,  Edmund,  IV.  5. 
Dwight,  F.,  V.  803. 
Dwight,  Theodore,  XIV.  558. 
Dwight,  Timothy,  V.  507. 
Eaton,  Theophilus,  I.  298  ;  V.  30. 
Ebrardt,  U.,  XI.  160. 
Edson,  H.  K.,  XVI.  750. 
Edwards,  B.  B  ,  XIV.  381. 
Edwards,  Richard,  XVI.  169. 
Elyott,  Sir  Thomas,  XVI.  483. 
Emerson,  G.  B.,  V.  417. 
Erasmus,  IV.  729. 
Ernesti,  I.  A.,  V.  750. 
Everett,  Edwurd,  VII.  325. 
Faneuil,  P.,  XI.  603. 
Farnum,  Paul,  HI.  397. 
Farnham,  G.  L.,  XV.  483. 
Faville,  O.,  XVI.  750. 
Fellenberg,  E.,  HI.  591. 
Felton,  C.  C.,  X.  265. 
Fenelon,  XILT.477. 
Fisk,  Wilbur,  VI.  297. 
Fliedner,  T.,  I.  ;  HI.  487. 
Ford,  Jonathan,  XIV.  395. 
Froebel,  F.,  IV.  792  , 

Fowle,  X.  597. 

Franklin,  B.,  I.  45 ;  VHE.  251. 
Fuller,  Thomas,  HI.  155. 
Fox,  X.  363. 
Fry,  Elizabeth,  HI.  508. 
Frangk,  Fabian,  XI.  163. 
Franke,  V.,  441. 
Frisch,  J.  L.,  XL  439. 
Gall,  James,  IV. 
Gallaudet,  T.  H.,  I.  417. 
Gottsched,  J.  C.,  XL  448. 
Galloway,  S.,  XVI.  601. 
Geneintz,  Christian,  XL  426. 
George  of  Trebizond,  VH.  440. 
Gesner,  J.  M.,  V.  741. 
Gerard,  IV.  622. 
Goodnow,  I.  T.,  XVI.  386. 
Goodrich,  S.  G.,  XLH.  134. 
Green,  John,  XLU.  G06. 
Grant,  Miss,  X.  656. 
Gubert,  John,  XL  42. 
Greene,  S.  S.,  XIV.  600. 
Grimm,  J.,  XL  454. 
Gregory.  J.  M.,  XV, 
Goswin,  IV.  715. 
Griscom,  John,  VIH.  325. 
Guarino,  VH.  436. 
Guilford,  Nathan,  VIH.  289. 
Guizot,  XI.  254. 
Hagar,  D.  B.,  XV.  217. 


CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION.       39 


Hadden,  IV.  164. 

Hall,  S.  K ..  V.  373. 

Hall,  W.,  XV.  127. 

Halm,  V.  <32f>. 

Hamann,  J.  G.,  VI.  247. 

Hancock,  J.,  XVI.  602. 

Harnisch,  Wilhelm,  VII.  317. 

Hart,  J.  S.,  V.  91. 

Harvard,  John,  V.  523. 

Harvey,  T.  H.,  XVI.  608. 

Hauberle,  V.  509. 

Haiiy,  V.,  m.  477. 

Hawley,  G,  XI.  94. 

Hazeltiue,  L.,  XV,  481. 

Hecker,  V.  695. 

Hedges,  Nathan,  XVI.  737. 

Hegius,  Alexander,  IV.  723. 

Henkle,  XVI. 

Herder,  VI.  195. 

Higginson,  John,  XTTT,  724. 

Hillhouse,  James,  VI.  325. 

Holbrook,  J.,VHI.  229;  XIV.  558. 

Hopkins,  Mark.  XI.  219 

Hovey,  C.  E.,  VIII.  95. 

Howe,  S.  G.,  XI.  389. 

Hoole,  C.,  XII.  W?. 

Hopkins,  E ,  IV.  668. 

Hoss,  G.  VV.,  XVI.  775. 

Hubbard,  F.,  XV. 

Hubbard,  R.,  V.  316. 

Huntingtun,  XV.  606. 

Hurty,  J.,  XVI.  776. 

Ickelsamer.  XI.  402. 

Ives,  M.  B.,  V.  311. 

John  of  Ravenna,  VII.  435. 

Johnson.  Samuel,  VII.  461. 

Johnson,  Walter  R.,  V.  781. 

Jones,  R.  D.,  XV.  481. 

Kelly,  Robert,  I.  655  ;  X.  313. 

Kempis,  Thomas  a,  IV.  626. 

Kingsbury,  John,  V.  9. 

Kneeland,  John,  XV.  526. 

Krachenberger,  V.  79. 

Kriisi,  Hermann,  V.  161. 

Kyrle,  John,  the  "Man  of  Ross,' 

IT.  654. 

Ladd,  J.  J.,  XIV.  592. 
Lancaster,  Joseph,  X.  355. 
Lange,  Rudolph,  IV.  726. 
Lawrence.  Abbot,  I.  205. 
Leo  X.,  VH.  454. 
Lewis,  Samuel,  V.  727. 
Lindsley,  Philip.  VII.  9. 
Locke,  John,  VI.  209. 
Long,  W.,  XVI.  497.  • 

Lord,  A.  D.,  XVI.  607. 
Lowell,  John,  V.  427. 
Loyola,  Ignatius,  XTV.  455. 
Lycurgus,  XTV.  611. 
Lyman  Theodore,  X.  5. 
"Lyon,  Mary,  X.  649. 


Lawrence,  Amos,  XVII. 
Lawrence,  William.  H.  33. 
May,  Samuel  J.,  XVI.  141. 
McDonough,  John,  H.  736. 
McGill,  James,  VII.  188. 
McJilton,  J.  N.,  XVII. 
McKeen,  Joseph,  I.  655. 
McMynn,  XIV.  391. 
Mann,  Horace,  V.  611. 
Marks,  D.,  V.  64. 
Marvin,  J.  G.,  XVI.  626. 
Mason,  Lowell,  IV.  141. 
Mayhew,  Ira,  XV.  641. 
Medici,  Lorenzo  di,  VII.  445. 
Melancthon,  Philip,  IV.  741. 
Micyllus,  IV.  464. 
Mildmny,  Sir  W.,  IV.  164. 
Mirandola,  Picus  di,  VIE.  449. 
Milton,  John,  XTV.  159. 
Morhof,  XI.  43(i. 
Morse,  Augustus,  XV.  608. 
Mowry,  William  A.,  XIV.  592. 
Nagali,  VIE.  300. 
Neander,  V.  599. 
Niederer,  VEI.  289. 
North,  Ed  ward.  XV.  486. 
North,  S.  J.,  VI.  104. 
Northend,  C  ,  XV.  220. 
Oberiin,  XVH 
Oelinger,  XI.  406. 
Olivier,  V.  508. 
Olmsted,  Denison,  V.  367. 
Orbilius,  m.  157. 
Orcutt,  XV.  630. 
Overberg,  XIII.  365. 
Page,  D.  P.,  V.  811. 
Parish,  A.,  XV.  523. 
Partridge,  A.,  XTTT  49,  683. 
Peabody,  George,  I.  328  ;  XVII. 
Peabody,  S.  H.,  XIV.  395. 
Pease,  Calvin,  XV.  631. 
Peckham,  J.,  XVI.  743. 
Peers,  B.  O.,  XVI.  147. 
Peet,  H.  P.,  HI.  365. 
Peirce,  C.,  IV.  275. 
Pelton,  J.  C.,  XVI.  626. 
Perkins,  T.  H.,  I.  551. 
Pestalozzi,  m.  401. 
Phelps,  W.  F.,  V.  827. 
Petrarch,  VH.  424. 
Philbrick,  J.  D  ,  XIV.  32. 
Philelphus,  VII.  441. 
Phillips,  John,  VI.  75. 
Phillips,  S.,  VI.  06. 
Pickarcl,  J.  L.,  XIV.  392. 
Picket,  Aaron,  XTV.  393. 
Picket,  Albert.  XVII. 
Picus,  J  ,  VII.  449. 
Pierce,  J.  D..  XV.  640. 
Plamann.  VII.  309. 
Platter,  Thomas,  V.  79. 


Plummer,  Caroline,  XTTT,  73. 
Poggius,  VH.  442. 
Politian,  VU.  445. 
Pomeroy,  E.  C.,  XV.  486. 
Potter,  Alonzo,  XVI.  599. 
Powell,  W.  H.,  XVI.  167. 
Pradt,  J.  B.,  XTV.  394. 
Putnam,  D.,  XV.  646. 
Radwin,  Florentius,  IV.  623. 
Ramsauer,  J.,  VU.  301. 
Randall,  S.  S.,  XTTT  227. 
Ratich,  V.  229. 
Ray,  J.,  XVI.  603. 
Raumer,  IV.  149. 
Red  field.  W.  C.,  IV.  833. 
Reuchlin,  V.  67. 
Rice,  V.  M.,  XV.  391. 
Jlichards.  Z.,  XIV.  23. 
Richard,  C.  S.,  XVI.  764. 
Richardson,  M.,  XV.  605. 
Rickoff,  A.  J.,  XIV.  24. 
Ripley,  E.  L.,  XV.  645. 
Rohbins,  T.,  HJ.  219. 
Rousseau,  V.  459. 
Russell,  W.,  TH.  139. 
Rytwise,  J.,  XVI.  682. 
Sams,  XVI.  602. 
Sanborn,  E.  D.,  XVI.  762. 
Sandinus,  VII. 
Sapidus,  V.  66. 
Sarmiento,  XVI.  593. 
Sargano,  VII.  435. 
Sawyer,  H.  E.,  XVI.  763. 
Scheurl,  C.,  XI.  161. 
Schmidt,  VU.  297. 
Seymour,  D.,  X.  321. 
Sheldon,  E.  A.,  XV.  484. 
Sheldon,  W.  E.,  XV.  525. 
Sherwin.  T.,  VIII,  461. 
Shotteiius,  XI.  429. 
Sill,  D.  M.  B  ,  XV.  645. 
Slade,  W.,  XV.  250. 
Simler,  V.  66. 

Smith,  Sir  Thomas,  IV.  165. 
Spicer.  A.  C.,  XIV.  392. 
Stundish,  J.  V.  N.,  XVI.  165. 
Steamy  XV.  524. 
Sticler,  XI.  435. 
Stoddard,  J.  V.,  XV.  480. 
Stone,  A.  P.,  XV.  219. 
Stowe,  C.  E.,  V.  586. 
Strong,  E.  F.,  XV.  607. 
Sturm,  IV.  167. 
Swett,  J.,  XVI.  790. 
Tappan,  H.  P.,  XIH.  451. 
Taylor,  J.  O.,  XV.  248. 
Thayer,  G.  F..  IV.  613, 
Tenney,  J.,  XVI.  7fil. 
Thayej,  Sylvan  us,  XVJJ. 
Thomasius,  J.,  V.  742. 
Thompson,  J.  B.,  XV.  487. 


40        CLASSIFIED  INDEX  OF  BARNARD'S  AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION. 


Thompson,  Z.,  I,  654. 
Tillinghast,  N.,  I.  655. 
Tobler,  J.  G.,  V.  205. 
Todd,  Henry,  IV.  711. 
Trotzendorf,  V.  107. 
Valentine,  T.  W.,  XV.  482. 
Valla,  VII.  443. 
Van  Rensselner,  VI.  223. 
Vassar,  M.,  XI.  53. 
Vehrli,  HI.  389. 
Vetrier,  XVI.  665. 
Vitellius,  XVI.  669. 
Vittorino,  VII.  436. 
Von  Turk,  V.  155 


Wads  worth,  J.,  V.  389. 
Warton,  J.,  XVI.  511. 
Wayland,  F.,  XLTI.  771. 
Watkinson,  D.,  IV.  837. 
Welch,  A.  S.,  XV.  642. 
Weld,  T.,  XV.  234. 
Wells.  F.  D.,  XVI- 
Wells,  W.  H.,  VTTT,  529. 
Werner,  G.,  IV.  799! 
Wessel,  IV.  714. 
Weston,  E.  P.,  XVI.  784. 
White,  E.  E.,  XVI.  606. 
Wickersham,  J.  P.,  XVI.  282. 
Wichern,  IH.  5. 


Willard,  Mrs.  Emma,  VI.  125. 
Wimpheling,  V.  05. 
Wines,  E.  C.,  IX.  9. 
Wolf,  F.  A.,  VI.  260. 
Woodbridge,  W.  C.,  V.  51. 
Woodbridge,  W.,  XVI  136. 
Woodman,  J.  S.,  XVI.  761. 
Woolworth,  S.  B.,  XV.  498. 
Wotton,  Sir  Henry,  XV.  123. 
Wright,  L.,  n.  176. 
Wykeham,  William  of,  XVI.  497. 
Yale,  Elihu,  V.  715. 
Zeller,  VLI.  305. 
Zerbolt,  Gerard,  IV.  625. 


Abbott,  Gorham  D.,  XVI.  600. 
Alcott,  W.  A.,  IV.  629. 
Allen,  F.  A.,  XV.  682. 
Andrews,  I.  W.,  XVI.  605. 
Appleton,  Samuel,  XLT.  1. 
Arnold,  Thomtis,  IV.  545. 
Bailey,  Ebenezer,  XLT,  401. 
Saker,  W.  S.,  XIV.  401. 
Baldwin,  Theron,  XV.  269. 
Barnard,  F.  A.  P.,  V.  753. 
Barnard,  Henry,  I.  1. 
Bateman,  N.,  XVI.  166. 
Bates,  S.  P.,  XV.  1- 
Bishop,  N.,  XVH 
Blewett,  B.  G.,  XVI.  432. 
Brooks,  Charles,  I.  587. 
Brown,  Nicholas,  LU.  291. 
Bulkley,  J.  W.,  XIV.  28. 
Burrowes,  T.  H.,  VI.  107. 
Camp,  D.  N.,  XV.  605. 
Carter,  J.  G.,  V.  407. 
Coburn,  C.  R.,  XV.  679. 
Colburn,  D.  P.,  XI.  289. 
Colburn,  Warren,  LT.  294. 
Davies,  Charles,  XV.  479. 
Dowse,  Thomas,  IX.  355. 
Dwight,  Edmund,  IV.  1- 
Dwight,  Francis,  V.  803. 
Edwards,  Richard,  XVI.  167. 
Emerson,  G.  B.,  V.  417. 
Everett,  E.,  VLT.  325. 
Farnum,  Paul,  HI,  397. 
Faville,  O.,  XVI.  759. 
Felton,  C.  C.,  X.  265. 
Fisk,  Wilbur,  VI.  297. 
Fowle,  W.  B.,  X.  597. 
Gallaudet,  T.  H.,  I.  417. 
Galloway,  S.,  XVI.  601. 
Garfield,  James  A..  XVLT.  1- 
Goodnow,  I.  T.,  XVI.  387. 
Green,  John,  XILT.  606. 
Greene,  S.S.,  XIV.  609. 
Gregory,  J.  M.,  XV.  643. 


PORTRAITS. 

Qriscom,  John,  VLTI.  325. 
Ilngar,  D.  B.,  XV.  517. 
Hall,  S.  R.,  XV.  5. 
Hart,  J.  S.,  V.  91. 
Hauy,  V.,  HI.  477. 
Hazeltine,  L  ,  XV.  481. 
Henkle,  William  D.,  XVI.  432 
Hillhouse,  James,  VI.  325. 
Holbrook,  Josiah,  VLH.  1. 
Hopkins,  Mark,  XL  219. 
Hovey,  C.  E.,  XLH.  94. 
Howe,  S.  G.,  XL  321. 
Johnson,  W.  R.,  V.  781. 
Kelley,  Robert,  X.  313. 
Kingsbury,  John,  V.  9. 
Lawrence,  Abbott,  I.  137. 
Lawrence,  William,  H.  1. 
Lewis,  Samuel,  V.  727. 
Lindsley,  Philip,  VH.  9. 
Lord,  A.  D.,  XVI.  *i07. 
Lyman.  Theodore,  X.  !• 
Lyon,  Mary,  X.  609. 
McCarty,  H.  D.,  XVI.  388. 
McGill,  James,  VH.  188. 
McJilton,  J.  N.,  XVH. 
McMynn,  J.  G.,  XIV.  391. 
Mann,  Horace,  V.  611. 
Mason,  Lowell,  IV.  141. 
Mayhew,  Ira,  XV.  641. 
North,  E,  XVH. 
North,  S.  J..  VI.  104. 
Northend,  Charles?,  XVI.  510. 
Olmsted,  Denison,  V.  367. 
Orcutt,  Hiram,  XV.  630. 
Page,  D.  P.,  V.  811. 
Parish,  A.,  XV.  523. 
Partridge,  Alden,  XLH.  657. 
Peabody,  George,  H.  642. 
Peckham,  Isaiah,  XVI.  743. 
Peet,  H.  P.,  LH.  366. 
Peirce,  Cyrus,  IV.  275. 
Perkins,  T.  H.,  I.  551. 
Pestalozzi,  IV,  65. 


Phelps,  Mrs.  A.  Lincoln,  XVLT. 
Phelps,  W.  F.,  V.  827. 
Philbrick,  J.  D.,  XIV.  32. 
Phillips,. Samuel.  VI.  66. 
Pickard,  J.  L.,  XIV.  129. 
Potter,  Alonzo,  XVI.  1- 
Randall,  S.  S.,  XTTT,  227. 
Ray.  L,  XVI.  603. 
Richards,  Z.,  XIV.  23. 
Rickotf,  A.  J.,  XIV.  24. 
Russell,  William.  LH.  139. 
Ryerson,  E.,  XVLT. 
Sarmiento,  D.  F.,  XVI.  593. 
Sawyer,  H.  E.,  XVI.  763. 
Scammon,  Jos.  T.,  XVLT. 
Sears,  B.,  XVLT. 
Sheldon,  E.  A.,  XV.  484. 
Sheldon,  W.  E.,  XV.  525. 
Sherwin,  Thomas,  VLLT.  461. 
Silliman,  Benjamin,  XVLT. 
Standish,  J.  V.  N.,  XVI.  165. 
Stoddard,  J.  F.,  XV.  675. 
Stone,  A.  P.,  XV.  519. 
Stowe,  C.  E  ,  V.  586. 
Swett,  John,  XVI.  790. 
Tappan,  H.  P.,  XLTI.  449. 
Thayer,  Sylvnmis.  XVLT, 
Thayer,  G.  F.,  IV.  613. 
Tillinghast,  N.,  LT.  568. 
Van  Rensselaer,  Stephen,  VI.  223. 
Vassar,  Matthew,  XL  1. 
Wadsworth,  James,  V.  389. 
Watkinson,  David,  XVLT. 
Wayland,  Francis,  XLTI.  L 
Wells,  D.  F.,  XVI.  749. 
Welb,  W.  H.,  VHI.  529. 
Weston,  E.  P.,  XVI.  783. 
Whftford,  W.  C.,  XVH. 
Wichern,  J.  H.,  LtE.  1. 
Wickersham,  J.  P.,  XV.  677 
Willard,  Mrs.  Emma,  VI.  1. 
Wines,  E.  C.,  IX.  9. 
Woolworth,  S.  B.,  XV.  385. 


Stutrent  life. 


Studies  and  Conduct :  Letters,  Essays,  and  Thoughts,  on  the  relative  value  of  Studies 
and  the  right  Ordering  of  Life  by  Men  Eminent  in  Literature  and  Affairs  :  Edited  by 
HENRY  BARNARD,  LL.  D.,  416  pages  :  Special  Edition,  544  pages.  1873. 

INDEX 


SPECIAL  EDITION. 


Abstract  Thought,  149,  447,  457. 
Abstract  and  Relative  Truths,  457,  470. 
Academy,  equivalent  to  College,  154. 
Accomplishments,  379,  392. 
Accuracy,  difficulty  in  reaching,  447,  501. 
Action  and  Knowledge,  514. 
ACKLAND,  HENRY  W.,  479, 

Physiology,  Physics,  and  Chemistry,  479. 
Activity,  self-determined,  15, 

Law  of  growth,  20. 
ADDISON,  JOSEPH,  16, 133, 184. 
Advice,  respecting  studies  and  conduct,  67,  81,  123, 

165,193,205,231. 
Adults,  education,  193. 
Esthetics,  science  of  the  beautiful,  512. 
Agriculture,  80, 155,  394. 
Age  for  Study,  73,  77, 154, 158,  435. 
Augustine,  St.,  384. 
Affectation,  103. 
AIKEN,  JOHN,  239, 

Eyes  or  No  Eyes— Art  of  Seeing,  239. 
Air,  pure,  importance  of,  35. 
AIRY,  GEORGE  B.,  448, 

Scientific  Studies,  448. 
Ambition,  as  a  motive, 

Carlyle,  528.  Chesterfield,  124. 

Chatham,  142, 
Amusements,  from  books,  121,  205. 

Children,  320 

Girls,  320,  324. 

Analysis  of  a  book,  112,  225,  230. 
Anatomy,  79,  474. 

Anaxageras,  a  teacher  of  Pericles,  135. 
Anaxarchus,  100. 

Ancient  Geography.  History,  and  Ideas,  426,  521. 
Anger,  73, 137,  319.' 
Annotations  by  Whately,  103, 178. 
Antipathies,  148,  315. 
Appetites  in  children,  53,  321. 
Aristotle,  78,117,502. 
Aristippus,  100. 
Arithmetic,  156,  460. 
Argumentation,  128,  282. 
Art,  512,  394, 

Open  to  women,  394. 
Arts  in  the  University  curriculum,  153, 

Defective  method  of  teaching,  153. 
Ashburton,  Lord,  442. 
Ascham,  R.,12, 

Lady  Jane  Grey,  377. 
Associations,  early,  40,  443. 
Astronomy,  138,  156. 
Athens,  estimation  of  Teachers  in,  64. 

University  of,  529,  543. 
Athletic  Sports,  38,  169. 
Attention,  to  business  in  hand,  126. 

Soul  of  memory,  126. 

Habits  of,  should  be  attained,  460. 
Austin,  Sarah,  20. 
Authors,  influence  of,  205,  226. 
Authority,  method  of,  in  teaching,  489. 
Aversion  to  school  text  books,  444. 


Bach,  method  on  piano,  352. 
BACON,  FRANCIS,  71, 92, 

Essay  on  Discourse,  177. 

Essay  on  Riches,  255. 

Essay  on  Studies,  103. 

Essay  on  Travel,  235. 
Bacon,  Nathaniel,  140. 

Basil,  St.,  of  Cappadocia,  at  Athens,  539,  543. 
BARROW,  ISAAC,  13,  93, 94. 
Beauty,  sense  of,  47,  393, 

In  age,  397. 

Beguines,  hospital  Sisters,  403. 
Behavior,  in  children,  316. 
Benevolence  in  trifles,  136. 
Bent,  the  Natural,  148, 107. 
Bequeathing  property,  263. 
Beza,  remarkable  memory,  90. 
BIBLE,  Estimate  of, 

Humbolt ,  273.  Sedgwick ,  228 . 

Jerome,  293.  Southey,  101. 

Newman,  274.  Taylor,  286. 

Raumer,  309.  Whately,  108.  ' 

Bible,  influence  on  nations,  274. 
Biblical  History,  157,  361. 
Biographies,  50,  229. 
Biology,  470, 473. 
Birth-day  festivals,  331. 
Boarding-schools  for  girls,  364. 
BODLEIGH,  SIR  THOMAS,  71, 

Letter  to  Francis  Bacon,  71. 
Body, 14,44. 
Boethius,  372. 
Bolingbroke,  12,  139. 

Book  and  Voice,  as  a  teacher,  22,  529,  544. 
Books,  value  and  use,  205. 

Bacon,  108,  110,  205.          Herschel,  205. 

Barrow,  94.  Hillhouse,  208. 

Burleigh.  74.  Locke,  222. 

Carlyle,  203.  Macaulay,  206. 

Channing ,  207 .  Masson ,  27. 

Choate,  206.  Milton,  205, 223. 

Cicero,  209.  Moon,  208. 

Cowley,  208.  Newman,  530. 

DeQuincey,  193.  Potter,  215. 

Everett,  211.  Rice,  210. 

Fuller,  91.  Sedgwick,  228.     " 

Franklin,  213.  Verplanck,  219. 

Grimke,  230.  Watts,  216. 

Hall,  82,  84. 210.  Whately,  104. 

Heincius,  215.  Winthrop,  209. 

Book  education,  28. 
Book-learning,  212. 
Books,  care  of,  229. 

Books,  difficulty  of  recommending,  31,  203,  370 
Botany,  as  a  school  study,  359, 491. 

Henfrey ,  469.  Wilson ,  49. 

Hooker,  472. 
Boyle,  Sir  Robert,  227- 
Boy- training,  Greek  idea  of,  436. 
Brothers  and  Sisters,  312. 
BROUGHAM,  HENRY,  163, 

Letter  to  Z.  Macaulay,  161. 


546 


TRUE  STUDENT  LIFE. 


Training 'for  public  speaking,  162. 

Appeal  for  human  advancement,  164. 

Teachers  of  mankind,  164. 
Buffon,  style,  or  manner,  302. 
BURLEIGH,  LORD,  74, 

Advice  to  his  Son,  75. 
BURNS,  ROBERT,  95. 

Advice  to  a  Friend,  95. 
Burke,  Edmund,  17,  162, 187, 

Model  for  English  Student,  in  oratory,  162. 

Conversational  Power,  187. 
Burnet's  History,  139. 
Business  of  life,  104. 
Business  Men,  Value  of  books  to,  216. 
Butler,  Bishop,  16. 
Byron,  Aversion  to  school  associations,  443.    ' 

Calling  to  a  pursuit.  79. 
Camelford,  Lord,  129. 
CARLYLE,  THOMAS,  524. 

Letters  to  a  Young  Man,  203. 

Address  as  Rector  of  Edinburgh  University,  524. 

Diligence  and  h,onesty  in  Study,  524. 

Books  should  be  made  more  available,  524. 

Writers — the  true  Peers  of  nations,  526. 

Wisdom— Endowments— Silence,  527. 

Ambition  avoided— Modesty— Wealth,  528. 
Catechism,  309. 
Catholic  Church,  289,  399. 

Female  Education  ,289. 

Female  Employments,  401. 

Sisterhoods,  402. 
Cecil,  Sir  William,  74. 
Ceremonial  behavior,  245. 
CHANNING,  WILLIAM  ELLERT,  207. 

Education  and  the  Teacher,  22. 

Books  and  Reading,  207. 
Charity,  94,  371. 
Charity,  Sisters  of,  403. 
CHATHAM,  Earl  of, '129. 

Letters  to  his  Nephew,  130. 
Chemistry,  470,  476,  490. 
CHESTERFIELD,  Earl  of,  123. 

Letters  to  his  Son,  125. 
Choate,  Rufus,  books  and  reading.  206. 
Christianity  in  education,  309. 
Choice  of  books,  219,388. 
Choice  of  paths,  78,  88,  97. 
Christmas  holidays,  328. 
Church  festivals,  330. 
Civilization,  modern,  434. 
Cicero,  cited,  74,  209, 

Professional  and  oratorical  training,  166,  538. 
Clarendon,  Lord,  140. 
Classification  of  the  sciences,  469. 
Classical,  origin  of  term,  200. 
Classical  studies,  opinions  respecting, 

Byron,  443.  Macaulay,  440. 

Chatham,  130.  Martineau,  445. 

Donaldson,  435.  Mill,  501. 

DeQuincey,  200.  Milton,  152. 

Froude,  520, 521.  Niebuhr,  171. 

Gladstone,  433.  Southey,  443. 

Herschel,  457.  Temple,  417. 

Hodgson  444.  Tyndall,  481. 

Locke,  146.  Vaughan,  446. 

Lowe,  421.  Whewell,  458. 

Class-reading  of  books,  223. 
Cleanliness,  36,  70,  322. 
Cleanthes  at  Rome,  537. 
Clear  and  precise  ideas  of  any  subject,  454. 
Clepsydra,  water  time-piece,  191. 
Clothes,  and  dress,  323,  362. 
Clulow,  W.  B.,16. 
Coleridge,  S.  T.  189, 194. 
College,  or  associated  education,  23,  31. 
Colleges,  31. 

COLLINGWOOD,  LORD  ADMIRAL,  379, 

Letters  on  education  of  his  daughter,  379. 
Colored  spectacles,  reading  with,  110. 
Commands,  should  be  few,  318. 
Commentators,  145,  176. 
Common-place  book,  73,  90,  224. 
Commencing  Master  of  Art,  154. 
Common-sense,  393. 


Competition,  441. 

Composition  in  ancient  tongues,  152, 171,  425. 

Composition  in  vernacular,  158,  173, 

Learned  by  translating  from  other  languages,  165. 

Promoted  by  writing  out  notes  of  lectures,  495. 
Conciliation,  397. 
Condiments  and  dainties,  321. 
Conduct,  suggestions  respecting  points  of 

Ambition,  124,  523.  Industry,  71. 

Attention,  126.  Inferiors,'  76, 137, 327. 

Behavior,  124, 137,  243.     Kindred,  76. 

Borrowing,  76,  353.  Law  suits.  76. 

Charity ,  94.  Lending,  237 ,  266. 

Companions,  75.  Manners,  243. 

Confidence,  76.  Marriage,  305. 

Conscience,  96.  Modesty,  70,293,322,370. 

Conversation,   76,    127,    Motives,  67,  96, 128,370. 

Courtesy,  70.  [177.     Money,  249. 

Diet,  83.  Objects  in  life,  147. 

Discretion,  178.  Occupation,  79, 107. 

Diversions,  80.  Order,  90,  247. 

Dress,  81.  Profanity,  70. 

Drinking,  80.  Profession,  79,  97. 

Devotions,  69,  73,  82.         Profligacy,  134. 

Expenditures,  75,  86.         Quarreling,  236. 

Early  rising,  397,  398.        Religion,  74,  134,  370. 

Endorsing,  76.  Reverence,  67. 

Exercise,  37.  Sarcasm,  128. 

Familiarity,  182.  Self-control.  96. 

Filial  duty,  75.  Sensuality,  95. 97. 

Friends.  76,  80.  Silence,  80, 134,  528. 

Gaiety,  70.  Sleep,  81. 

Health,  82,  528.  Sunday,  84. 

Honesty,  174,  525.  Superiors,  70,  76, 137. 

Hospitality,  76.  Travel,  71,  75,  231. 

Humility,  321,  456.  Truthfulness,  70,  318. 

Independant,  95.  Wife,  75. 

Conference,  with  others,  in  reading,  112,  223,  225. 
Confession  of  faults,  317. 
Confirmation,  309. 
Conscious  manner,  179. 
Consequences,  pondered  over,  285. 
Contents  and  analysis  of  book  read,  225,  230. 
Conversation,  value  and  method,  177. 

Addison,  184.  Steele,  184. 

Bacon,177.  Swift,  179. 

Burleigh,  76.  Taylor,  88. 

Chesterfield,  127.  Temple,  184. 

DeQuincey,  185.  Whately,  178. 

Mackintosh,  368. 

Conversation,  common  faults  in,  180. 
Conversation  and  reading,  103, 112,  150,  223,  229. 
Conversers,  examples  of  good,  187,  190. 
Convent  life  for  girls,  293. 
Cotta,  168. 

Country,  education  for  children  in,  363. 
Courage,  37,  60- 

Course  or  plan  of  life,  97,  339,  398. 
Course  of  reading,. 221. 
Course  of  study,  133, 169, 195. 
Courtesy,  70,  136, 185. 
Court  manners,  246. 
Cowardice,  315. 

Cowley,  A.,  Value  of  a  library,  208. 
Cox,  W.,  Scope  of  Education,  19. 
Cramming,  480,  491. 
Crates,  cited,  100. 
Crying  and  whining,  319. 
Curiosity,  14,  112. 
Custom,  or  habit,  16. 
Cuvier,  Logical  advantages  of  Natural  History,  477. 

Dacier,  Madame,  336. 

Dainties,  321. 

Dames  Hospitalieres,  402. 

Dancing,  136. 

Dante,  cited,  397, 

Value  of  morning  hours,  397. 
Darkness,  fear  of, 

Day,  the  ordering  of  a,  81,  338,  396. 
Death,  277,  311. 
Debt,  236,  266. 
Defoe,  227. 
Demosthenes,  144, 163,  528. 


TRUE   STUDENT   LIFE. 


547 


DeMaistre,  on  education  of  Girls,  381,  398. 
Denny,  Letter  to,  388. 
DEMORGAN,  446. 

Thorough  mastery  of  One  Subject,  446. 
DeQuincey,  Thomas,  185, 

Conversation  as  an  Art,  185. 

Letter  to  a  person  of  neglected  education,  193. 
Descartes,  Method  of  investigation,  469. 
Devotional  exercises,  73,  82,  83,  292. 
Dialectics,  167. 
Diary,  395. 
Dictionaries,  228. 
D'Israeli,  227. 
Diet,  160,  321. 
Diligence,  524. 
Discovery,  Pleasures  of,  492. 
Discretion,  Age  of,  87, 93. 
Discretion  in  speech,  178. 
Disputation,  145,  192. 
Dissertations,  172. 
Distrust,  self,  149. 
Diversions,  80,  86. 
Docendo  discimus,  342,  495. 
Dolland  and  the  Telescope,  218. 
Dolls,  for  girls,  321. 
Domestic  life,  399. 
DONALDSON,  JOHN  WILLIAM,  435, 

Classical  Learning,  and  Competitive  Tests,  435. 

Education,  Information,  Knowledge,  Science,  456. 

English  and  German  Scholarships,  437. 

Comparative  value  of  Knowledge,  440. 
Drawing,  358,  391.  Dress,  81. 

Drudgery  of  details,  418. 
DuBartas,99,101. 
Dunces,  will  exist,  can  diminish,  not  extirpat,  154 

496. 
DUPANLOUP,  BISHOP  OF  ORLEANS,  381, 

Studious  Women,  381. 
Duty,  280, 284. 

Earliest  moral  influence,  148. 

Earliest  reading,  117,  227. 

Early  impressions,  291. 

Early  rising,  81, 139,  376, 397. 

Easter  festival,  328. 

Eating,  83,  321. 

Economics,  156. 

Edgeworth,  Maria,  57, 118. 

Edinburgh  Review,  129. 

Education,  denned  and  described,  11. 

Addison,  16.  Jacobs,  437. 

Ascham,  12.  Johnson,  15. 

Austin,  20.  Lalor,  20,  34. 

Bacon,  12  123.  Locke,  14,  145. 

Barrow,  13,  93.  Lowe,  121. 

Brown,  21.  Martineau,  445. 

Burke,  17.  Masson,23. 

Butler,  16.  Mill,  497. 

•  Carlyle,  21,  204,  525.          Milton,  12, 152. 

Channing,  22.  Newman,  529. 

Clulow,16.  Paley,15. 

Cox,  19.  Parr,  17. 

Doderlin,  436.  Pope,  11,  421. 

Donaldson,  435.  Raumer,  335. 

Faraday,  450.  Ramsden  17,  19. 

Froude,  515.  Ruskin,  19. 

Gladstone,  433.  Shakspeare,  11. 

Grote,  18.  Short,  13. 

Hamilton,  15, 18, 21,441.    Simpson,  21. 

Harris,  16.  South,  13, 92. 

Helps,  18.  Stewart,  21. 

Henfrey,  469.  Wayland,  22. 

Herschel,  457.  Whately,  18,124. 

Hobbs,  14.  Whewell,  11,458. 

Hooker,  13.  Whichote,  13. 

Huxley,  474.  Wotton,  12. 

Educare,  Educere,  11. 
Education,  designed,  formal,  498, 

Accidental,  of  life,  497,  514. 

Mutual,  529. 
Eloquence,  164,  168, 544. 
Employments,  79,    399. 
Emulation,  generous  ardor,  126,  155. 
Encouragement,  78,  290. 
Endorsing,  surety,  76,  236. 


Endowments,  430,  528. 

English  Bible,  274. 

English  Classical  Scholarships.  437. 

English  Language,  208,  423,  429. 

English  Literature,  208. 

English  and  Scotish  Universities,  499,  516. 

Ennui,  382. 

Envy,  and  covetousness,  313. 

Erasmus,  223,  373. 

Esteem  of  others,  67, 125, 142,  370. 

Ethics,  511. 

Euclid,  198,  461, 

Repugnance  to,  490. 
Eunapius,  at  Athens,  538. 
Evening  reading,  365. 
EVERETT,  EDWARD,  211. 

Books,  Libraries,  Reading,  212. 
Example,  53. 
Excursions,  159. 
Exercise,  37. 

Experimental  Sciences,  420,  469, 490, 507. 
Experience  and  Knowledge,  14,  89. 
Extempore  speaking,  162,  165, 

Perfected  into  Oratory,  163. 
Eyes  or  No  Eyes,  or  Seeing,  239,  486. 

Facts,  the  basis  of  scientific  induction,  491. 
Faculties,  culture,  418,  421. 

Limitations,  150. 
Fairness,  318. 
Faith,  275. 
Fagging,  37. 

Familiarity,  not  accuracy,  501. 
Family  Government,  295. 
Family  Life,  295,  331. 
Family  Reading,  223. 
Family,  School  of,  23,  295,369. 
FARADAY,  MICHAEL,  449, 

Existing  education  does  not  train  the  judgment, 

Natural  science  develops  laws,  452.  [450. 

Fancies,  94. 
Fasting,  rule,  293. 
Father,  duty  in  education,  306,  342. 
Fear  of  the  Lord,  67,101, 135,  283,  290. 
Fear,  or  Cowardice,  59,  311. 
Fear,  as  a  Motive,  59, 96, 101. 
Feltham,  223. 
Female  Education,  30,  289. 

Belongs  to  the  Family.  307. 
Female  Employments,  399. 
Fencing,  136, 158. 

Fenelon,  297,  307,  323,  332,  340,  344. 
Fiction,  Works  of.  229, 

Raumer,  304,  338.  Whately,  118. 

Field  Sports  and  Excursions,  158. 
Flowers,  studied  with  an  artist's  eye,  359,  491, 

Botanical  or  scientific  aspect,  491. 
Fliedner,  Pastor,  399. 
Fluency  in  speaking,  468. 
Food,  35,  319,  321. 

Foreign  languages,  important  to  a  knowledge  of  na- 
Foresig-ht,  277,  286.  [tive,  501. 

Forms,  ignorance  of,  247. 
Foundations,  430,  527. 
FRANKLIN,  BENJAMIN,  212, 249, 

Poor  Richard— or  the  Way  to  Wealth,  249. 

Indebtedness  to  Books,  213. 
Fraternal  feelings,  313. 
Free  services,  209. 
French  Language,  138. 
Freshmen,  at  Athens  University,  539. 
Friendship,  School  of,  27. 
Frivolity,  and  Ignorance,  384. 
FROUDE,  JAMES  ANTHONY,  515, 

Address  to  Students  of  St.  Andrews,  515. 

Ancient  English  and  Scotch  Universities,  516. 

Object  of  Modern  Schools— High  and  Low,  518. 

Education  should  prepare  for  occupations,  519. 

Higher  education  should  be  less  classical  and  or- 
namental, 5fil. 

Literature  as  a  profession ,  523. 
Fry,  Elizabeth,  411. 
FULLER,  THOMAS,  89, 

Memory— Books— Travel,  90. 


548 


TRUE  STUDENT  LIFE. 


Galleries  of  Art,  235,  513. 
Games,  of  chance,  321, 

In-door,  321. 
Gardening,  394. 
General  Culture,  161. 
Genius,  without  wisdom,  284. 
Geography,  487. 

Geometry,  scientific  and  practical,  459,  490. 
Geology,  496. 

German  Language  and  Literature,  202,  480. 
German  Bible,  274. 
German  Scholarship,  437. 
Girls,  Education  of,  289, 

General  aims  and  defects,  297.  386. 

Music— French— Dancing ,,298,  391. 

Multiplicity  of  studies— Superficialty,  303. 

Fiction— Romances— Frivolity ,  304. 

Religious  and  moral  culture,  309. 

Household  duties  and  occupations,  332. 

Higher  moral  culture,  335. 

Home  and  school  education  compared,  341. 
Globes,  43, 138,  155. 
God,  in  Life  and  Education,  49.  81,  86,  281. 

Instruction  respecting,  50,  3$0. 

Reverence  of,  68,  75,  81,  243,  528. 

Old  and  New  Testament  teaching  of,  274. 
Goethe,  300,  308,  336,  340. 

Domestic  work  of  Girls,  340. 
Good-humor,  184. 
Good-breeding,  185,  243,  247. 
Good-manners,  185,  243,  247. 
Government  of  Family,  75. 
Grammar,  155. 
Grafting,  and  Education,  18. 
Gratitude,  135. 

Gravitation,  Law  of,  defied  by  Tableturners,  451. 
Greediness,  321. 

Gregory,  of  Nazianson,  at  Athens,  538. 
Greece,  the  University  of  ancient,  542. 
Greek  Language  and  Literature,  465,  501. 

Historical  development  in  school,  465. 

Pedagogical  estimate,  501.     Chatham,  133. 

CICERO,  167.  Gladstone,  434. 

DeQuincey.  200.  Lowe,  424. 

Froude,  620.  Niebuhr,  174. 

Grimke,  Thomas,  230. 
Grote,  J.,  15. 
Grey,  Lady  Jane,  377. 

Conversation  with  Ascham,  376. 
Grey  Sisters,  402. 

Growth,  principle  of,  in  education,  33. 
Gymnastics,  38. 

Habit  of  Mind,  446. 
Habits,  personal,  12, 16,  53. 
HALE,  SIR  MATHEW,  77. 

Advice  to  his  grandsons,  77. 
HALL,  JOSEPH,  81. 

Letter  to  Lord  Denny— ordering  of  a  Day,  81. 

Advice  for  all  sorts  of  men,  86. 

Letter  to  Mr.  Milman— Study  and  Meditation,  84 
HAMILTON,  SIR  WILLIAM,  461. 

Education  defined,  15, 18,  21. 

Mathematics  as  mental  discipline,  461. 
Hand-writing,  380. 
Hardwicke,  Lord,  238. 
Hardening  the  Body,  37. 
Happiness,  102,  147,  277. 
Harris,  James,  16. 
Health,  82,  147,  376,  528. 

Overtasked  in  school,  480. 
Heart-knowledge,  113,  204. 
Heart-wisdom.  102,  188,  285. 
Heart-bearing',  480. 
Heat,  latent  study  of,  494. 
Helps,  Arthur,  18.      ' 
HENFREY,  ARTHUR,  469. 

Claims  of  Botanical  Science,  469. 
Hercules,  53,  73,  77. 

Choice,  97. 

Herode's  Atticas,  543. 
HERSCHEL,  SIR  JOHN  F.  W.,  457. 

Mathematics  in  school  curriculum,  457. 

Taste  for  reading,  205. 


Hilda,  383. 

lillhouse,  James,  208. 
lints  on  reading,  215. 
History,  subject  of  Reading  and  Study,  500. 

Bacon, 103.  Locke,  150. 

Carlyle,  525.  Lalor,  43. 

Chatham,  143.  Mill,  501. 

Dupanloup,  393.  Raumer,  360. 

Johnson,  15,  543.  Sedgwick,  228. 

Macaulay,  544.  Whately,  113. 

iobbs,  Thomas,  14. 
HODGSON,  W.  B.,442. 

Classical  Instruction  :  its  Use  and  Abuse,  442. 
Holidays  for  Children,  327. 
Home  Education  for  Girls,  340. 
Home  School  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  369. 
lomer,  160. 

Homes  of  Studious  Women,  390. 
Sonesty,  67, 173. 

HOOKER,  JOHN,  Study  of  Botany,  472. 
Hooker,  Richard,  13. 
Hortensius,  as  an  Orator,  168. 
Horace,  131,  137, 139,  174,  538. 
Hospital  work  for  Women,  401,  408. 
Houghton,  Lord,  use  of  Translations,  468. 
Hotel-Dieu,  402. 
House-keeping,  383. 

Household  Ordering  and  Expenses,  332. 
HUXLEY,  T.  H.,473. 

Study  of  Zoology,  474. 
Hufeland,  Counsels  for  Mothers,  311. 
Humanizing  influence  of  Letters,  418,  521. 
Humility,  a  lesson  of  science,  456. 
Husbandry,  79,  155. 
Hymns  and  Bible  texts,  315. 
Hypatia,  382. 

Idleness,  132. 

Ignorance,  courage  to  own,  199. 

Knowledge  of  our  own,  106. 
Imagination,  48, 120,  422. 
Impatience,  379. 
Impulse,  wisdom  by,  284. 
Independence,  95,  268. 
Information,  not  education.  435. 
Ingratitude,  134. 
Instinctive  opinions,  117. 
Intellectual  education,  40,  474. 
Inclination  and  Incredulity   453 
Industrial  element,  79, 107.  "~ 
Investigation,  faculty  of,  489. 

JAMESON,  MRS.,  399. 

Woman's  Work,  399. 
Jean,  Paul,  297.311. 
JEROME,  ST.,  289. 

Letter  to  Laeta,  290. 
Jest,  subjects  exempt  from,  177. 
Jester,  in  Society,  181. 
Job,  Book  of,  286. 
Johnson,  Samuel,  15,  187,  202. 

Travel,  History,  Printing,  542. 

Conversational  power,  187. 
Joubert,  common  sense  defined,  393. 
Judgment,  want  of,  in  educated  men,  450. 

Trained  by  natural  science,  452,  456. 
Jukes,  Prof.,  accidental  bias   to  Geology,  4 
Julian,  Emperor  at  Athens,  543. 
Juvenal,  175. 

Kant,  Emanuel,  25. 

Knitting,  and  Needlework,  292,  362. 

Knowledge,  love  of,  15. 

Knowledge,  is  not  science  or  education,  480. 

Knowledge,  and  Wisdom,  15,  100,  279. 

Kyrle,  John,  the  Man  of  Ross,  256. 

Labor,  80,  83,  204,  525. 

Laboratory  work,  496. 

Laborissiere,  Hospital  of,  407. 

LaBruyere,  127. 

Lady  Jane  Grey,  377. 

Laeta,  education  of  Daughter,  290. 

LALOR,  JOHN,  20, 33. 


TRUE  STUDENT  LIFE. 


549 


Prize  Essay— Nature  of  Education,  33. 
LANDOR,  WALTER  S.,  397. 

Imaginary  Conversation,  377. 
Language,  command  of,  how  got.  124. 

Chatham,  144.  More,  372. 

Brougham,  163.  Niebuhr,  175. 

Pitt,  165. 
Languages,  198.  445,  446. 

Ancient,  152,  461,  483. 

Modern,  201,  500. 

Labor  of  mastering,  153,  198. 

Faculties  exercised,  198,  446. 
Latin  Language  and  Literature,  501. 

Chatham,  5UO.  Milton,  154. 

DeQuincey,  201.  Niebuhr,  171. 

Hale,  77.  Parker,  465. 

Lavater,  184. 
Laughter,  136. 
Laws  of  Nature,  450. 
Law,  Trade  or  Profession  of,  153, 161. 
Law,  Universe  of,  13. 
Learn,  by  teaching,  342,  495. 
Learner,  object  of  education  to  make  a  good,  447. 
Learning  and  Experience,  447. 
Learning,  152,  370. 
Learned  Women,  336. 
Lecture,  and  the  Book,  compared,  32, 193,  472. 

Value  for  accurate  knowledge,  193,  497. 
Lending,  and  suretyship,  263. 
Lent,  372. 

Lesson  on  Botany,  491. 
Letter- writing,  141,  368,  372. 

Mackintosh,  368. 

Madame  de  Sevigne,  368. 

More,  372. 
Levanna,  332. 
Liberal  education,  different  aspects,  103,  417- 

Bacon,  103.  Lowe,  421. 

Carlyle,  524.  Masson,  23. 

Chatham,  129.  Macaulay,  543. 

Doderlin,  436.  Mill,  499. 

Donaldson,  435.  Milton,  151. 

DeQuincey,  193.  Newman,  529. 

Gladstone,  433.  Niebuhr,  169. 

Faraday,  450.  Owen,  476. 

Froude,  515.  Temple,  417. 

Hamilton,  18.  Tyndall.  481. 

Hale,  77.  Whately,  105. 

Huxley ,  473.  Whewell ,  458 . 

Jacobs,  437.  Wilson,  483. 

Locke,  145. 

Libraries,  origin  of,  539. 
Library,  205,  209,  215. 
Lie,  and  Lying,  318. 

Life,  147,  278,  396.  » 

Literature,  as  a  vocation,  194. 

Open  to  Woman,  394. 
Literature,  of  knowledge  and  power,  199. 
Literature,  part  of  liberal  culture,  419,  500. 
Literary  character,  227. 
Listener,  134. 

Locality,  school  of,  23,  535. 
Logical  Faculty,  488. 
Logic,  195,  508. 

Lord's  Prayer,  for  children,  309. 
Loving  heart,  204. 
Love,  a  motive  to  study,  000. 
Lunatic  Asylums,  410. 
LTELL,  SIR  CHARLES,  475. 

Claims  of  physical  science,  475. 
LTTTON,  LORD  EDWARD  BULWER,  272. 

Management  of  money,  265. 

MACAULAY,  THOMAS  B.,  206. 

Travel  and  History,  544. 

University  of  Athens,  543. 
MACKINTOSH,  SIR  JAMES,  Familiar  Letters,  368. 
Man  of  Ross,  Pope's  picture.  257. 

The  original,  258. 
Mandeville,  107. 
Manly  exercises,  87, 159. 
Manners,  defined  and  value,  136,  185,  243. 

Buffon ,  302.  Newman ,  531 . 

Chatham,  136.  Raumer,  323. 

Chesterfield,  124.  Hale,  243. 


Emerson,  243.  Swift,  244. 

Landor,  243. 

Maps,  and  map  drawing,  43. 
[arcus,  Emperor  of  Rome,  at  Athens,  538. 
[argaret  More,  374. 
lartha,  Sisters  of  St.,  403. 
[artineau,  James,  445- 
Manual  labor,  362. 

Manufacturers,  value  of  books  to,  216. 
Masson,  David,  33. 

College  and  self-education,  23. 
Mathematics,  subject  of  study,  457,  486. 

Hamilton,  461.  Herschel,  457. 

DeQuincey,  197.  Whewell,  458. 

Hale,  78.  Mill,  506. 

Temple,  488. 

lathematics  versus  Philosophy,  461. 
Mathematical  reasoning,  114, 197,  463,  486. 

Dangers  and  difficulties,  464. 
Marriage,  305. 
Manual  labor,  107,  292. 
Mary,  the  Mother,  400. 
Meals,  53,  83,321. 
Means  and  Ends,  229. 
leaeures,  43. 

lechanics,  value  of  books  to,  216. 
Meditation.  83. 150.  Menippus,  167. 

Memory,  89,  112.  Metropolitan  City,  533. 

Method  of  Studying,  110,  225,  226,  230. 
Mental  Science,  46. 
Mensuration,  460. 
Mental  Training,  488,  498. 
Mind,  the  basis  of  Academical  polity,  542. 
MILTON,  JOHN,  151,  207. 

Letter  to  Samuel  Hartlib,  151. 
Military  Art  and  Tactics,  154,  159. 
MILL,  JOHN  STUART,  497. 

Education,  in  its  larger  and  narrower  senee,  497- 

Proper  function  of  a  University,  498. 

Scotch  and  English  Universities  compared,  499. 

General  School  Education,  scientific  and  lib.,  500. 

Modern  languages,  History,  Geography,  500. 

Greek  and  Latin  languages,  and  literature,  501, 

Limitations  to  classical  studies — science,  504. 

Mathematics,  pure  and  applied — experiments,  507. 

Logic,  Physiology,  and  Psychology,  609. 

Politics,  History,  Economics,  Jurisprudence,  510. 

International  Law,  Religion,  Ethics,  511. 

Art  and  Esthetic  culture,  Poetry,  513. 

Discipline  of  active  life,  514. 
Modesty,  70,  293,  322,  370. 
Monologe,  not  conversation,  191. 
Money ,  its  acquisition  and  management,  249. 

Bacon,  255.  Lytton,  265. 

Burleigh,  75.  Pope,  357. 

Franklin,  249.  Taylor,  260. 

Montesquieu,  126. 
Moral  Philosophy,  150. 
Moral  Science  Tripos,  499. 
Moon,  G.  W.,208. 
Moral  education,  22,  48. 
Moral  sense,  62. 
More,  Sir  Thomas,  369. 

Letters  on  the  education  of  his  children,  370. 
Morning  hours,  398. 
Mothers,  48,  341. 
Motives  for  study,  78, 155. 
Music,  39,  349,  351. 
Music,  in  education,  159. 

Lalor,  39.  Raumer,  248,  298. 

Milton,  159. 
Much,  not  Many,  rule  for  reading,  230,  544. 
Miscellaneous  reading,  176. 

Nations,  University  division  at  Athens,  542. 

National  Anniversaries,  331. 

Nation,  education  of  a,  17. 

Nature,  274,  284,  450. 

Naturalist,  473. 

Natural  History,  473,  476. 

Natural  Philosophy,  44,  78. 

Natural  Sciences,  359,  456,  484- 

Natural  Scenery,  514. 

Needlework,  292,  362. 

Necker,  Madame,  297,  298,  340,  346. 


550 


TRUE  STUDENT  LIFE. 


Neglected  education,  remedies  for,  193. 
NEWMAN,  JOHN  H.,  529. 

English  Protestant  Bible,  274. 

University  of  Life  and  Affairs,  529. 

University  of  Athens,  535,  545. 
New  Testament,  50, 273,  274. 
NIEBUHR,  GEORGE  B.,  169. 

Letter  on  study  of  Philosophy,  170. 
Non  multa  sed  multum,  91.  521. 
Note  Book,  73,  90. 
Number,  42. 

Nuns  for  Hospital  service,  401. 
Nursery -maids,  325. 

Oaths,  vulgarity  of,  70. 
Obedience,  57,  318. 
Object  Teaching,  41. 
Observation,  habits  of,  40. 
Occupation,  choice  of,  77, 107. 

Education,  training  for,  436,  519. 

Manual,  362. 
Old  age,  170. 
Old  and  the  Young,  28. 
Old  Testament,  274. 
One-sidedness  of  mind,  486. 
Order  and  punctuality,  90,  322. 
Oral  method,  29,  31,  32,  529. 
Ornamentation  of  home,  362. 
Oratory,  training  for,  158, 161,  165. 

Reading,  writing,  and  meditation,  167. 

Brougham,  161.  Cicero,  166. 

Pitt,  165. 
Ovid,  cited,  177. 
Owen,  Richard,  476. 

Claims  of  Natural  History,  476. 

Pagan  views,  384. 
PAGET,  GEORGE  E.,  478. 

Physiology,  478. 

Pain,  Physical,  35.  Painting,  394,  512. 

Paley,  William,  15.  Pardon  asking,  316. 

Parr,  Thomas,  17.  Partiality  of  Parents,  313. 

Patriotism,  32,  141.  Patience  of  thought,  455. 

Paula,  382, 401. 
PARKER,  CHARLES  STUART,  465. 

Historical  development  of  Greek  and  Latin,  465. 
Peace  and  War,  education  for,  154, 158. 
Pedantry,  18,  246. 

Penmanship,  176,  369.       Perseus,  135. 
Pericles,  135,  541,  544.        Perception,  469. 
Perseverance,  279,  286.      Pestalozzi,  295,  305. 
Phidias,  544. 

Philology  and  Philological  studies,  170. 
Philosophy,  99,  461.  489. 
Philosophical  Sciences,  461. 
Physiology,  44,  478,  479,  496. 
Phocion,  Science  of.  528. 
Piano,  abuse  of,  391.          Picture  Bible,  309. 
Piety,  culture  of,  70. 
Pitt,  Thomas,  Letters  to,  139. 
Pitt,  W.,  the  Great  Commoner,  129. 
Pitt,  William,  training  as  an  Orator,  165. 
Pysical  Education,  34. 
Physics,  how  taught,  479,  481,  495. 
Physical  Geography,  472. 
Physical  Sciences,  claims  assented  by, 

Ackland  479.  Faraday,  450. 

Airy,  448.  Henfrey,  469. 

Cuvier,  577.  Hooker,  472. 

Huxley,  473.  Ly ell,  475. 

Lowe,  429.  Tyndall,  481. 

Owen,  476.  *Wilson,  483. 

Paget,  478.  Vaughan,  445. 

Plato,  503. 
Pocket-money,  333. 
Poetry,  in  higher  education,  165, 174. 

Mill,  513.  Milton,  157.  Lalor,  47. 

Politics  and  Political  economy,  184,  510. 
Politeness,  136,  243. 

Poor  Richard,  or  the  Way  to  Wealth,  249. 
POPE,  ALEXANDER,  14,  104. 

Man  of  Ross,  or  the  true  Use  of  Wealth,  227. 
POTTER,  ALONZO,  215. 

Hand  Book  for  Reading,  221. 

Advantages  of  Science,  215,  222. 


Praise,  61, 128,  370. 

Prayers,  113,  309.  Preconceptions,  110. 

Preface  and  Contents  of  a  Book,  225. 

Prejudices  and  Misconcertions,  149. 

Pride,  62,  371. 

Printing,  civilization  before,  543. 

Priestly,  217. 

Private  or  Home  Education  for  Girls,  363. 

Private  tutor,  344,  369. 

Prizes,  62. 

Probabilities,  Proximate  judgment  in,  452. 

Proaeresius  at  Athens,  539. 

Proairesis,  156. 

Prodicus,  97. 

Choice  of  Hercules,  97. 
Profanity,  70. 

Professional  Teaching,  32, 64. 
Professors  at  Athens,  642. 

Endowed  by  the  State,  542. 
Pronunciation  of  Latin,  154,  290. 
Proportionate  Judgment,  455,  485. 
Prytanes  at  Athens,  544. 
Punctuality,  247. 

Public  School  Commission,  Report,  483. 
Pursuits  of  Literature  quoted,  199,  221. 
Puzzled  state  of  mind,  114, 148. 
Pythagorean  Letter,  291. 
Pythagorean  silence,  134. 

Quantity,  science  of,  462. 

Questions  on  a  Book  or  Lesson,  112.  , 

Preliminary,  or  Socratic,  112. 
Quarreling,  236,  314. 
Quintilian,  155. 

Raillery,  128, 182.  Ramsden,  17,  19. 

RAUMER,  KARL  VON,  295. 

Education  of  Girls,  295. 

heading,  the  art  of,  343.  ,    , 

Reading,  hints  respecting,  215. 

Ascham  377.  Johnson.  203. 

Bacon,  103.  Landor,  378. 

Carlyle,  203,  525.  Potter,  220,  226.1 

.Collingwood,  320.  Sedgwick,  2^7.    * 

DeQuincey,  193.  Watts,  215. 

D'Israeli,  227.  Whately,  104. 

Dupanloup,  383.  Raumer,  337. 

Grimke,  230.  Vail,  215. 

Reading  and  Discourse  or  Conference,  150 
Reading  and  Reflection,  150,  222,  230,  277. 
Reading  and  Writing,  224. 
Reading  for  Girls,  228,  338 
Ready  man,  103,  186. 
leal  objects,  in  early  instruction,  41. 
Reaibning,  different  kinds,  116,  485. 

Mathematical,  463, 

Problematical,  455,  464,  485. 

Philosophical,  464. 
leceptive  Faculty,  489. 
lecreations  of  the  Family,  365. 
Reformatories,  414. 
Reflection,  22i  229.  277. 
Religion,  49,  134,  512. 
leligious  Culture  and  Work,  134,  309,  395. 
Rewards  and  encouragements,  290. 
Reverence,  67,  96,  135. 
Reviews  of  lessons  and  books,  158, 176. 
Rhetoric,  162. 
RICE,  A.  H.,  211. 
Riches,  uses  and  abuse,  257. 
Riding,  136, 159. 
Rivalry,  312. 
lomance  reading,  338. 
lote  memory,  113. 
Ruskin,  19.  f.    .    ; 

Sainte-Beauve  on  Chesterfield's  Letters,  125. 
Sarcasm  and  severity.  76,  174,  177. 
Schools,  variety  and  office,  23,  230,  531. 
Sculpture  and  education ,  16. 
Science  in  School  Curriculum,  477,  532. 

General  neglect,  476,  485. 
Sciences,  classification  of,  469,  473,  476. 
Scientific  information.  487. 
Scientific  Training,  487,  497. 


TRUE  STUDENT  LIFE. 


551 


Science  defined,  436, 490. 

Exactness  and  power,  485. 
Scheme,  or  plan  of  study,  150,  17. 
Scholarship,delights  of,  85,  230. 
Scotland,  and  education,  499. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  443. 
Scriptures,  how  to  study,  108. 
Sedgwick,  Catharine  M.,  229. 

Reading  for  Girls,  227. 
Seeing,  art  of,  239. 

Self,  and  Selfishness,  95, 178, 180,  184. 
Self-activity,  15,  233. 
Self-education,  helps  to,  23,  28. 

Books,  28,  35,  215.  Work,  218. 

Examples,  29,  217.  Dangers  of.  31. 

Self-knowledge,  96,  128,  150,  286. 
Self-love  and  Wisdom,  282. 
Self-examination,  150,  452. 
Seneca,  225. 

Senses,  Culture  of,  40,  481. 
Sevigne,  Letters  by,  368. 
Sex,  55,  325,  370. 
Sensuality,  97. 
Shaftsbury,  225. 
Shakspeare,  11,  92,  236,  380. 
Shyness,  179. 
Sherman,  Roger,  219. 
Short,  Bishop,  13. 
SIDNEY,  SIB  HENRY, 

Letter  to  his  Son,  69. 
SIDNEY,  SIR  PHILIP,  231. 

Letter  on  Travel,  232. 
Silence,  time  for,  134,  528. 

Seldom  repented  of,  86. 
Simpson,  J.,  21. 
Simplicity,  90. 
Singing,  89,  356. 
Sisterhoods,  401. 

Beguines,  402.  St.  Elizabeth,  403,  408. 

Grey  Sisters,  402.  St.  Martha,  403. 

Hospital,  402.  Charity,  405,  407. 

Skill,  Manuel,  292. 

Site  of  a  University  typified  at  Athens,  538. 
Sleep,  81,  147,  158,  397,  365. 
Slow  development,  41. 
Smattering  of  knowledge,  104, 107,  392. 
Smart,  but  ill  natured  words;  128. 
Smith,  Goldwin,  468. 

Smith,  Sidney,  too  much  Latin  and  Greek,  442. 
Smith,  Southwood,  Health,  45. 
Socrates,  25,  97. 
Social  Reading,  228. 
Social  Sciences,  470. 
Solitude,  experience'of,  185, 195,  276. 
Songs  of  childhood,  40. 
SOUTH,  ROBERT,  13,  92. 
SOCTHEY,  ROBERT,  99,  443. 

Knowledge  and  Wisdom,  100. 
Space  and  Time,  462. 
Sparta,  158. 
Species,  471. 

Speaking,  fluency  in,  how  acquired,  162. 
Speculations,  useless  147. 
Sports  and  Pastimes,  38. 
ST.  JEROME,  289. 

Letter  to  Laeta,  290. 
Steele,  Sir  Richard,  184. 
Story-tellers  in  society,  133. 
Statesmanship ,  school  of,  532. 
Stanhope,  Son  of  Earl  Chesterfield,  125. 
Stewart,  Dugald,  21. 
Staupitius,  90. 
STRAFFORD,  LORD, 

Letters  to  his  Son,  73. 
Studium  Generale,  defined,  529. 
Study,  Objects,  Limits,  and  Methods,  145. 
Student  Life  at  Athens,  537. 
Studies,  Characteristic  of  different,  103. 
STUDIES,  ELEMENTARY,  LIBERAL,  AMD  SPECIAL, 

Agriculture,  80,  155.          Mensuration,  459. 

Anatomy ,  474.  Modern  Languages ,  476 , 

Arithmetic,  45, 334,  348.        500. 

Art,  or  asthetics,  512.        MilitaTy  tactics,  159. 

Astronomy,  380,  484.          Moral  Duty,  156- 

Biology,  470,  471.  Moral  Philosophy,  150. 


Book-keeping,  448. 
Botany,  469. 
Chemistry,  476,  479. 
Classical,  445. 
Civil  economy,  510. 
Economics,  156. 
Ethics,  103, 155,  511. 
Experimental  Sciences, 

494,  507. 
Drawing, 356. 
French,  346, 138,  202. 
German,  480. 
Greek,  133, 200, 465. 
Geometry,  460,  490. 
Geography,  138,  500. 
Geology,  477,  484,  496. 
Grammar,  154. 
Globes,  43, 138, 155. 
Hebrew,  157. 
Hydrostatics,  494. 
History,  103,  176,  346, 

500,  510. 
Hamanitics,  418. 
Hand-writing,  176, 380. 
International  Law,  510. 
Italian,  156. 
Jurisprudence,  510. 


Medicine,  156. 
Music,  159,  356. 
Natural  History,  476, 

456. 
Natural  Philosophy  ,103, 

135,156. 
Natural   Sciences,    359, 

456,  477. 
Oratory,  151,  157,  161, 

168. 

Painting,  394, 512. 
Penmanship,  176,  379. 
Physical  Sciences,    445, 

467,  480. 

Philosophy,  78,  461. 
Philosophical  Sciences, 

461. 
Phy  sicalGeography  ,472 , 

Pneumatics,  494. 
Philology,  170, 176. 
Physiology,    156,  479, 

508. 

Physics,  256,  479,  481, 
Piano,  351.  [494. 

Psychology,  509. 
Politics,  157,  510. 


Language ,  198 , 445 , 446 ,    Political  Economy ,  510 . 

500.  Poetry,  157,  513. 

Logic,  103, 153, 157, 197,    Rhetoric,  103. 
508.  Reading,  343. 

Latin ,  152 , 201 , 466 , 502.    Religion ,  51. 
Mathematics,  Pure,  103,    Science  generally,  487. 

153,  156, 198,506.  Singing,  348. 

Mathematics,Mixed,156,    Theology,  157. 

457,  507.  Trigonometry,  156. 

Mechanics,  494.  Zoology,  473. 

Studious  manner,  369,  381. 
Style,  146, 173,  178. 
Sunday,  83. 

Subjects,  Reading  by  221. 
Swetchine,  Madame,  398. 
Swimming,  38. 
SWIFT,  JONATHAN,  179, 

Conversation ,  179 ,        Manners ,  244 . 
Sword,  use  of,  136. 

Table-turning,  451. 

Taxonomy,  471. 

TAYLOR,  HENRY,  281,  286, 

Money,  its  management,  291. 

Wisdom  in  conduct,  281. 
TAYLOR,  JEREMY,  87, 

Manly  Element  in  Education,  87. 
Teaching,  495, 500. 
Teachers,  special  training,  64,  170. 
Teachers  of  Mankind,  164, 170. 
Telescope,  218. 
Temper,  56, 137. 
Temple,  Sir  William,  184. 
TEMPLE,  FRED.,  417, 

Languages,  Mathematics,  Science,  418. 
Tenderness, 

Tonnele  on  Female  Culture,  389. 
Tennyson,  401. 
Terror,  Impulse  of,  59,  315. 
Text-book,  495. 
Tents  and  Hymns,  315. 
Theresia,  382. 

Things,  Knowledge  of,  41,?422. 
Thinking,  Faculty  of,  186,' 447,  485. 
Theophrastus,  at  Athens,  542. 
Theology,  157. 

Thibaut,  on  Purity  in  Music,  354. 
Time,  250,  462. 
Timidity,  315. 

Timing  speakers,  in  conversation,  191. 
Tractate  on  Education,  by  Milton,  151. 
Translations,  oral  and  written,  165,  175. 
Training,  17,  488. 
Training  to  Think,  495. 
Travel,  Advice  respecting,  235, 

Aiken,  239.  Littleton,  237. 

Bacon,  27, 235-  Macaulay,  239. 

Bodleigh,  71.  Masson,  37. 


552 


TRUE  STUDENT  LIFE. 


Fuller,  91.  Milton,  160,  237. 

Hardwicke,  238.  Shakspeare,  236. 

Johnson,  238. 
Travel,  Objects  of  Attention,  231. 

Administration  of  Cities  and  States,  71,  233. 

Art,  235,  238,  512. 

Church  Affairs,  71,235. 

Government,  72,  233. 

Geography,  72. 

Judiciary,  72,  235. 

l^rade  and  Traffic,  72,  234. 

Languages,  91,  235. 

Comparative  estimate,  232. 
Travel,  how  made  profitable,  73,  91,  232. 

Maturity  of  Mind  and  Character ,  237. 

Previous  knowledge  from  books,  91,  235. 

Access  to  best  society,  234,  236,  237. 

Separate  from  countrymen,  236. 

Kemove  prejudices,  73,  237,  239. 

Avoid  foreign  vices.  71,  91,  236. 
Travels,  Books  of,  119. 
Trifles,  in  Training,  308. 
Truth,  Law  of  Education  and  Science,  51, 148,173, 

Love  of,  128, 168. 
Truths,  Classification  of,  470. 
TYNDALL,  JOHN,  481, 

Physics,  481. 

Physics,  481. 
Tutor,  77,  344. 
Type  and  Voice,  injteaching,  32,  529. 

Ulysses'  bow,  160. 

University,  lectures,  not  for  uneducated  men,  193. 

Unconscious  manner,  323. 

Uneducated  mind,  488. 

University,  defined,  529, 534, 

Site,  535. 

Student  life  at  Athens,  537,  543. 

Proper  function,  498,  529. 

English  and  Scotish,  499,  516. 
University  studies, 

Carlyle,  524.  Milton,  151. 

Froude,  515.  Mill,  495. 

Lowe,  421.  Newman,  528. 

University,  and  the  great  Public  Schools,  458. 
University  Men,  deficiencies  in,  428. 
Unlearning,  necessity  for,  113. 

VAIL,  THOMAS  H.,  215, 

Hints  respecting  Books  and  Reading,  215. 
Valor,  204. 
Vanity,  61,  371,  389. 
VAUGHAN,  H.,  11,82, 
Oral  Teaching,  32. 

Exclusion  of  physical  science,  446. 

Relative  value  of  languages  446. 
Veracity,  in  dealing  with  children,  52. 
Ventilation,  35. 

Verplanck,  Gulian  C.,  Reading,  219. 
Versification  in  a  dead  language,  152,  440,  425. 
Vincent  de  Paul,  405. 
Virgil,  131. 
Virtue  in  Education,  14,  97.. 

Address  to  Hercules,  98. 
Voice,  Power  of  the  living,  32,  39,  187. 

Universal  cultivation,  39.  ,    '' 

Cicero's  culture,  167. 


War,  too  much  in  education,  75,  146, 152. 

Warrior,  The  Happy,  97. 

Watching  children,  390. 

Watt,  James,  218. 

Watts,  Isaac,  215,  223. 

Wedge  wood,  Josiah,  218. 

Weights  and  Measures,  43. 

WHATELY,  RICHARD,  18, 178, 

Annotations  on  Bacon's  Studies,  104. 
WHEWELL,  WILLIAM,  11,458, 

Mathematics  in  Liberal  Education,  458. 
Whitaker,  Rules  in  reading,  230. 
Whithcote,  13. 

Whickiff,  Huss,  and  Luther,  226. 
Whittier,  Treatment  of  the  Insane,  410. 
Wife,  Choice  of,  69,  75,  270. 
Will,  Force  and  control  of,  57. 
Will,  Coffee  House,  181. 
WILSON,  J.  M.,  Rugby  School,  483, 

Natural  Science  in  Schools,  483. 

Failure  of  Latin  and  Greek  in  discipline,  483. 

Intrinsic  Dignity  and  Power  of  Science,  485. 

Subjects  and  Methods.  487. 

Specimen  Lesson — Botany,  491. 

Experimental  Physics,  494. 
Winemon,  223. 
WINTHROP,  ROBERT  C.,  209. 

Books  and  Reading,  209. 
Wisdom,  in  Conduct,  93,  281, 

Barrow,  93.  Southey,  99. 

Bible,  101, 102.         Taylor,  881. 

Carlyle,  527. 

Humboldt,  237.         Wordsworth.  279. 
Wise  men,  in  word  and  deed,  279,  282. 
Wise  men  of  Greece,  characteristics,  99. 
Wits,  proferred  in  company,  141. 
Woman,  her  Aim  and  Merit,  381, 

Pagan  and  Christian  view,  384. 

Dangers  of  mental  culture,  388. 

Home  of  studious  women,  389. 

Pursuits  open  to,  373,  401. 

Necessity  of  method  to — Morning  hours,  398. 

Exclusion  from  society,  influence  of,  183. 
Words,  Study  of,  153,  423. 
WORDSWORTH,  WILLIAM.  279, 

The  Happy  Warrior,  279. 
Work,  cure  of  all  maladies,  204,  525. 
Working-day  World,  399. 
World,  Knowledge  of,  94,  204. 
Wrestling,  and  other  athletic  sports,  158. 
Wotton,  Sir  Henry,  12. 
Writing,  or  Penmanship,  176,  379. 
Writing  and  Speaking,  112,  163,  165, 168. 
Writing  with  Reading,  112,  224,  225. 
WYATT,  SIR  THOMAS,  67, 

Letter  to  his  son  at  school,  67. 

Honesty,  Reverence,  Goodness,  68. 
Wyttenbach,  on  daily  reading,  225. 

Y.  Pythagorean  Symbol,  291. 
Yorke  Philip,  238. 
Young  Children,  33,  299. 
Young  Ladies,  382. 

Zenophon,  Prodicus'  choice  of  Hercules,  97. 
Zoology,  Study  in  Schools,  473. 


36nrttflrii's  JJntinitnl  <£torntintt. 


INDEX 


TO 


ELEMENTARY  AND  SECONDARY  EDUCATION  IN  GERMANY. 


A.  B.  C.  Tablets,  528, 541. 

Abecedarians,  780,  865. 

Abroad,  scholars  from,  506. 

Absence  from  School,  valid  excuses  for,  687,  887. 

How  dealt  with,  128.     See  Attendance. 
Academic  (university)  study,  preparation  for,  242. 
Account-book,  Teachers  in  Brunswick,  213. 
Agricola,  George,  535. 
Administrative  authorities,  755. 

See  State,  Provincial,  Municipal,  Authorities. 
Adults,  schools  and  classes  for,  56,  419,434,  807. 
jEpinus.  John,  in  1525,  372. 
Aisop's  fables,  536,  537. 
Age  for  school  attendance, 


Hesse-Darmstadt,  281. 
Mecklenberg,  312,  319. 
Prussia,  434. 
Saxe-Coburg,  895. 
Saxony,  550. 
Wurtemberg,  361. 


Austria,  55,  887. 

Baden,  128. 

Bavaria,  160. 

Brunswick,  210. 

Hanover,  227. 

Hesse-Cassel,  267. 

Agriculture,  in  common  schools,  50,  590. 
Agriculture,  special  schools  of,  196,  85J. 
Afra,  church  and  school,  531,  539. 
Altenzelle,  convent  school,  533. 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  859. 
Albert,  of  Brandenburg.  449. 
Alt.enberg,  Teachers'  Seminary,  569. 
Altenstein,  minister  of  public  in,  411,   441. 

Letter  to  Pestalozzi  in  1808,  363. 

Letter  to  Plamann  in  1822,  413. 

Normal  school  system  for  Gymnasia,  441. 
Altona,  school  system,  647. 
Amelia  Institute,  567. 
AN  HALT,  Principality,  17,  744,  845. 

Dessau-Cothen,  17. 

1.  Primary  Schools,  17. 

2.  Secondary,  19. 

3.  Special  schools,  19. 
Bermberg,  20. 

Public  schools,  20,  744. 
Anthropology,  145,  443,  896. 
Apparatus,  52,  201,  610. 
Apprentices,  schools  for,  105. 
Appointment  of  teachers, 

Provisional,  174,  602.  612,  897. 

Definitive,  593,  888,  tf!)7. 

Revocable,  696,  889. 

Aquaviva,  author  of  Jesuit  plan  of  studies,  67. 
Architecture,  special  schools  of,  599,  850. 
Arch-Gymnasium,  109. 
Arithmetic,  extent  and  methods  of  teaching. 

Austria,  54,  103.  Nassau,  324. 

Baden,  130,  144.  Prussia,  419,  781. 

Bavaria,  169,  189.  Saxe-Weimar,  628. 

Hanover,  255.  Wurtemberg,  685. 

Assistant  teachers,  83. 
Associate  teachers,  83. 
Association  of  teachers,  214,  695,  702. 
Astronomy,  rudiments  in  1580,  547. 


Attendance,  law  respecting  in 

Arihalt    18.  Nassau,  324. 

Austria,  55,  42,  63,  887.    Oldenburg,  327. 

Bnden,  123.  Prussia,  380, 433,  339. 

Bavaria,  161.  Saxony,  555. 

Hanover,  227.  Saxe-Coburg.  592,  895. 

Hesse-Cassel,  267.  Saxe-Meiningen,  609. 

Hesse-Darmstadt,  281.     Wurtemberg,  661. 

Mecklenburg,  312. 
Augsburg,  school  organization,  168,  859. 

Institute  of  English  Ladies,  176. 
Augustiues,  522,  531. 
Augustus,  of  Brunswick,  208. 
Augustus  I.,  of  Saxony,  549. 

Order  for  Schools,  in'l580,  540. 
AUSTRIA,  Empire,  9. 

Area,  population,  religion,  23,  120. 

Public  instruction — historical,  26. 

1.  Elementary  schools,  26. 
Organization,  administration,  studies,  40. 
Statistics,  61,  68,  120,  744. 

2.  Secondary  schools — classical,  67. 
Historical  development  in  detail,  67. 
Present  organization,  studies,  82. 
Statistics,  78,  120,  845. 

3.  Real  schools,  98. 
History  and  organization,  101. 
Statistics,  101,  105,  J20,  845. 

4.  Superior  Schools  or  Universities,  120. 
Faculties,  Professors,  Students,  120,  846. 

5.  Special  Schools,  120. 

6.  Hungary,  Croatia,  Slavonia,,  107. 
General  view  of  Educational  institutions,  120. 
School  code  of  Maria  Theresa,  1774,879. 
School  code  of  1869,  885. 

School  ordinance  abrogating  Concordat,  892. 

Bache,  A.  D.  cited,  801. 
BADEN,  Duchy  of,  121,  156. 

Area.  Population,  History,  121,  744. 

1.  Elementary  schools,"  122. 
Summary  of  laws  and  regulations,  127. 
Statistics,  134.  744. 

2.  Secondary  instruction,  135. 

Classical  schools,  organization,  studies,  135.  845. 

3.  Real  schools,  149,  845. 

4.  Higher  institutions,  pupils,  152,  846. 
v    5.  Orphan  and  Rescue  institutions,  153. 

Universities,  846. 

Law  of  1864,  155. 
Baden-Durlach,  121,  153. 
Bathing,  718. 
Barefooted  schools,  735. 
Barnard,  Henry,  National  Education,  3. 

German  Pedagogy  and  Schools,  905. 

German  Educational  Reformers,  903. 

German  Universities,  904. 
Barth,  town  school  in  1305,  373. 
Basedow,  117. 


906 


ELEMENTARY  AND  SECONDARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMANY. 


Basle,  university,  846. 
Bassewitz,  cited,  352,  357. 
BAVARIA,  kingdom  of,  157,  206. 
Area,  population,  religion,  157. 

1.  Primary  or  common  schools,  158,  744. 
History,  law  of  1802,  1808,  1811,  1836, 1848,  158. 
Attendance,  parishes,  inspection,  lb'0. 
Schools,  studies,  methods,  106. 

Teachers,  school  apprentices,  seminaries,  172. 

2.  Secondary  schools,  176,  845. 

High  school  for  girls,  Classical  schools,  176. 

Latin  school,  gymnasium,  185. 

Real  schools,  Technical  schools,  Polytec.  schools,  195. 

3.  Rescue  and  Supplementary  schools,  204. 
General  view  of  schools  and  their  distribution,  156. 

Benefactors  of  Education,  early. 

Saxony,  535. 

Beck,  A.,  Life  of  Ernest  the  Pious,  582. 
Beck,  Christian  Daniel,  551. 
Beckedorf,  L.  387,  413,  345. 
Bee  raising  in  Silesia,  50. 
Behavior,  or  Manners  in  school,  581, 
Bensheim,  Catholic  seminary  at,  286,  589. 
Bergen,  in  1662,  Pomerania,  373. 
Berlin,  school  system,  363. 

Institute  for  girls,  359.      Seminary,  848,  864. 

Private  schools,  427.        University,  524,  526,  848 

Statistics,  429,  586,  859. 
Berner,  instruction  in  music,  364. 
Bernhardi,  plan  for  gymnasium,  492. 
Bible  as  a  reading-book,  803,  866. 
Bible  History,  treatment  of,  418,  791. 
Bible  in  schools,  418,  440,  682,  803. 
Blocks  in  school,  781. 
Blackboard,  376,  541,865. 
Boarding,  Gymnasiums,  562. 
Blind,  schools  for,  206,  850. 
Boarding  round,  225,  294,  607,  802. 
Bockh,  Pedagogical  seminary,  488. 
Bodily  Culture,  591. 
Bohemia,  23,  41,  95,  99. 
Bonitz,  Hermann,  in  Vienna,  79. 
Bonn,  University,  459,  524,  846. 
Book  publication  in  Austria,  60. 
Branch  schools,  40. 

Brandenberg,  mark  and  electorate,  335,  336. 
Brandenberg,  Province  of  Prussia,  425. 

Elementary  schools,  425. 

Secondary  schools,  459,  515. 
Braun,  416. 
Ureslan,  345,  846,  859. 
Bremen,  school  system,  739,  859. 
Bromberg,  39L  397,  411. 
Brotherhood  of  Christian  Instruction,  26. 
Brotherhood  of  Common  Life,  235. 
Bruggmann,  Catholic  gymnasium  councilor,  447. 
Brunn,  school  system,  859. 
BRUNSWICK,  Duchy  of,  207. 

Historical  development  of  schools,  207. 

1.  Primary  schools,  209. 

2.  Orphan  and  Rescue  institutions,  216. 

3.  Classical  schools,  216. 
Brunswick,  city,  208,  217,  859. 
Buildings  for  school  purposes,  44,  160. 
Biidingen,  gymnasium,  289,  859. 
Bugenhagen,  John,  school  reforms,  372  734. 
Burgher  schools  in 

Austria,  64,  100,  886.,          Mer,klen-Strelitz,321. 
Baden,  149,  150,  845.  Oldenburg,  329. 

Bavaria,  150,845.  Prussia,  501,  845. 

Brunswick,  859.  Reuss.  528. 

Bremen,  719.  8.~>9.  Suxony,  556. 

Frankfort,  737.  Saxe-Altenburg,  568. 

Hamburg,  740.  Snxe-Coburg  ,568. 

Hanover,  851).  Suxe-Meineiigeii,  600. 

Hesse-Cassol,  859.  Hiixe  Weirnur,  632. 

Hesse-Darmstadt,  296.        Tlmringian  States,  815. 
Lippe-Detmold,  3G6.  Schleswig-Holstein,  t(J47. 

Lippe-Schaumburg,  307.    Svvarzburg,  650. 
Lubeck,  740.  Waldeck,  652,  845. 

Mecklenberg-Sch.,  313.     Wurtemberg,  721. 


Biickeburg,  Burgher  schools,  307.         ] 

Gymnasium,  307. 

Teachers'  Seminary,  307. 
Busch,  Herman,  534. 

Catholic  and  Protestant  school  attendance. ' 

Bavaria,  300.  Wurtemburg,  726. 

Catholic  Church  and  schools, 

Austria,  26,  39.  Prussia,  347,  423,  869. 

Bavaria,  165.  Wurtemberg,  657. 

Silesia,  869. 

Calendar  and  Catechism,  memorizing,  654. 
Callenberg,  Female  Teachers'  Seminary,  558. 
Calligraphy,  103,  109,  151. 
Cumeralisten,  847. 
Campe,  school  books,  375. 
Canisius,  Catechism,  121. 
Canton,  531. 
Carinthia,  23,  61. 
Carlsruhe,  school  statistics,  859. 
Carlsbad   gymnasium,  121. 
Carniola,  23,  66. 

Cassel,  school  statistics,  278,  859. 
Catechisms,  Carnisius,  23,  66. 

Heidelberg,  121.  Luther's,  541,  804. 

Josephine,  121.  Dinter,  802. 

Catechists  in  Austria,  85. 
Catechism,  instruction  in 

Austria,  89.  Wurtemberg,  547. 

Baden,  121,  130.  Hanover,  229. 

Bavaria,  168. 

Prussia,  341,  439,  791,  798,  804,  865. 
Cathedral  schools,  531,  732. 

Mecklenberg,  315.  Hanover,  234. 

Chain-rule  in  Arithmetic,  169. 
Charlemange,235,531. 
Charles  L,  of  Brunswick,  209. 
Charles  V.,  Interim,  237. 
Chemnitz,  859. 
Chemnitz,  Martin,  216. 
Cato,  early  school  book,  536. 
Chemistry,  103,197. 

Church  attendance  of  pupils  on  Sunday  867. 
Chorister,  215. 

Church  and  State  in  school,  227,  802. 
Church  in  relation  to  school,  ]59, 165. 

Austria,  892,  Prussia,  798,  800. 


Baden,  125. 


Saxe-Coburg,  902. 
Wurtemberg,  654. 


Bavaria,  165. 

Brunswick,  209. 
Church  Convention,  Wurtemherg,  724. 
Chronological  development  of  higher  schools,  503, 
Circle  School  Board  in  Austria,  32. 
Ciphering,  807. 
Cities,  school  system  and  statistics,  859. 

Berlin,  427.  Neustrelitz  City,  321. 

Dresden,  g58.  Newbrandenbnrg,  321. 

Friedland,  32.  Schoningen,  212. 

City  Constitution  of  Frederick  II.,  362,  461,  755. 
Civil  status  of  teachers,  240, 

Baden,  147.  Lippe-Detmold,  305. 

Bavaria,  160.  Prussia,  472. 

Hanover,  240.  Wurtemberg,  695,  723. 

Classification  of  knowledge,  590. 
Classification,  168,  757,  778. 
Class  and  department  organization,  146. 
Class-book  in  discipline,  9J. 
Class  Professors,  469. 
Class-record,  258. 
Class  system  of  organization,  212. 
Class-teaching,  76,  292,  810. 
Classes  in  Elementary  school,  21,  51,  62. 
Classes  in  Secondary  schools,  146. 
Classical  studies,  135,  149,  564. 
Clergy  and  public  schools,  528,  708,  875. 
Cloister  schools,  208,  712. 
Coburg,  city  schools,  896. 
COBURO  duchy,  896. 
Code  for  schools, 

Austria,  8,  881,  887.         Saxony,  540. 

Baden,  255.  Saxe  Gotha,  591,  897. 


ELEMENTARY  AND  SECONDARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMANY. 


907 


Code  for  Schools, 

Prussia,  861,  564.  Wurtemberg,  654,  659. 

Colleague  Teacher,  470,  564. 
Comenius,  cited,  '230,  239,  579. 
Commerce,  schools  of,  857, 
Commerce,  ministry  of,  153. 
Commercial  Academy  in,  1770,  98. 
Common  objects  and  phenomena,  579,  768. 
Common  School,  origin  of,  798. 

Aim  and  objects,  158,  885. 
Common  Science,  304. 
Commune,  24. 

Communal  school,  123,  801,  890,  894. 
Concordat  of  1855,  in  Austria,  3D,  892. 
Conduct-List,  472. 
Conferences  of  Teachers, 

Austria,  51.  889.  Prussia,  468,  836. 

Baden,  132.  Snxe-Coburg,  901. 

Hanover,  174.  Wurtemberg,  695. 

Confessional  schools,  41,  135,  553,  797. 
Consistory,  226,  304. 
Competitive  Examination,  34,  710. 
Composition,  exercises  in,  777,  783. 
Compulsory   attendance,  703.     (See  Attendance.) 

Prussia,  381. 

Concentration  of  teaching,  806. 
Confirmation,  161,  554. 
Convent  schools,  531,  533. 
Corporal  punishment,  211,  320,  609. 
Conversational  method,  767,  780,784. 
Country  Schools,  170  669. 
Council  of  studies,  136. 
Cousin,  on  Prussian  schools,  444. 
Crime  and  Schools,  167. 
Croatia  and  Slavonia,  23,  105,  107. 
Crusius,  Martin,  Greek  Grammar,  544. 
Criminal  Children,  school  for,  676. 
Curriculum  vitte,  242,  478. 
Custodian,  861. 

Daily  Routine,  767. 

Austria,  52.  Prussia,  767,  864. 

Baden,  131.  Snxe-Gotha,  588. 

Bavaria,  167  203.  Wurtemberg,  767. 

Dahnatia,  23,  35. 

Gymnasiums,  95. 

Dam  man,  on  teachers'  wages.  383. 
Darmstadt,  Gymnasium,  289. 
Deaf-Mutes,  314,  850. 
Decuria,  or  Section  Master,  541,  542. 
Definitely  appointed  teachers,  8U7. 
Denominational  character  of  schools,  552,  664,  798. 

Wurtemberg,  664.  Saxony.  552. 

Department  system  of  teaching,  77. 
Deportment  of  pupils,  134. 
Design,  schools  of,  671. 
Dessau,  Basedow's  Philanthropinum,  17. 

Female  schools,  19.          Real-classes,  19. 

Gymnasium,  19.  Trades-school,  19. 

Detention  after  school,  506. 
Detmold,  303. 

Gymnasium,  306. 

Higher  Trade  Seminary,  306. 

Teachers'  Seminary,  305. 
Diary,  school, 

Baden,  133.  Wurtemberg,  686. 

Bavaria,  171.  Hesse-Cassel,  269. 

Dialectics  and  Rhetoric,  544. 
Diaspora,  799. 
Diesterweg,  387,  416. 

Dismissal  from  Berlin  Normal  school,  415. 

Guide  for  German  teachers,  588. 

Dietsch,  Dr.  R.,  author  of  article  on  Saxony,  530,  554. 
Dinner,  teachers'  right  to,  374. 
Dinter,  369,  833. 

Private  training  school  at  Dresden,  550. 

Catechism,  802. 
Director,  79,  84,  466. 
Discipline,  general  principles, 

Baden,  134.  Hesse-Darmstadt,  292. 

Bavaria,  171.  Prussia,  506,  866. 


Discipline,  general  principles. 

Hesse-Cassel,  276.  Wurtemberg,  717. 

Discipline  out  of  school 

Baden,  146.  Saxony  in  1580,  546. 

Dissenters  in  Germany,  425,  799. 
Dissenters  in  Prussia,  799. 
District  in  Austria  defined,  25. 
Doctrinale  of  Alexander,  235. 
Domestic  economy  in  schools,  222,  422. 
Domestic  training,  796. 
Donatus,  Latin  Grammar,  536. 
Dortmund  petition,  on  Prussian  Regulative,  416. 
Drawing,  instruction  in 

Austria,  54,  103.  Hanover,  556. 

Baden,  151.  Prussia.  784, 

Bavaria,  170.  Wurtemberg,  685. 

Dresden,  schools,  859. 

Holy  Cross  gymnasium,  535. 

Poor-school,  550. 

Burgher-school,  551. 

Fletcher  seminary,  551. 
Du  and  sic,  in  school  language,  191,  258. 
Due  to  the  school,  children  of  certain  age,  41,  555. 
Duke,  Christopher,  of  Wurtemberg,  709. 

Grand  Ecclesiastical  order  of  1559,  654,  709. 
Duke  Ernest,  the  Pious,  581. 
Dwelling-house  for  teachers,  610,  697,  821. 

Ecclesiastical  authorities,  and  the  public  school. 

Austria,44.  Hanover,  226. 

Baden.  126.  Hesse-Cossel,  266. 

Bavaria,  163.  Prussia,  756. 

Brunswick,  210.  Wurtemberg,  709. 

Ecclesiastics  as  teachers,  84,  95. 
Educational  Fund  of  Austria,  69. 
Eichorn,  J.  A.  P.,  ministry  of,  414,  444. 

Decree  concerning  aesthetic  culture,  415. 
Eilers,  Dr.,  assistant  of  Eichorn,  414,  446. 
Elberfeld,  859. 

Elementary  schools,  801.  (See  Primary  schools.) 
Elementary  studies,  limits  of  805. 

Concentration  of  teaching,  805. 
Emerited  teachers,  176,  410,  613. 
Endowed  Schools,  247,  759. 

Ephori,  in  school  administration,  136,  591,  617,  G28. 
Eppingen,  Higher  Burgher  school,  151. 
Equipment  of  schoolhouse,  779. 
Erfurt,  Normal  school,  371. 
Erlangen,  university,  846. 
Ernest,  the  Pious,  of  Saxe-Coburg,  572,  576. 
Ernesti,  John  A  ,  548,  550. 
Esslingen,  Normal  school,  691. 
Evangelical  sr  hools,  530. 
Ernest,  Duke  of  Saxe-Coburg-Gotha,  894. 
Evening  schools,  105,  131. 
Examination  of  Elementary  schools,    55. 

Austria,  54.  Mecklenberg,311,  320. 

Baden,  125.  Nassau,  325. 

Bavaria,  164.  Prussia,  754. 

Hanover,  230.  Saxe-Meiningen,  618. 

Hesse,  286.  Wurtemberg,  694. 

Examination  of  Secondary  schools, 

Austria,  91.  Prussia,  474. 

Baden,  141.  Saxe-Meiningen,  624. 

Hanover,  242.  Wurtemberg,  722. 

Examination  of  Elementary  Teachers, 

Austria,  47,  888.  Hesse-Darmstadt,  287. 

Bavaria,  174.  Prussia,  835. 

Brunswick,  213.  Saxe-Coburg,  896, 

Hanover,  231.  Wurtemberg,  692,  721. 

Examination  of  Secondary  Teachers  in 

Austria,  93.  Hesse,  276,  287. 

Baden,  147.  Mecklenburg,  316. 

Bavaria,  173,  Prussia,  474. 

Brunswick,  217.  Saxe-Meiningen.  634. 

Hanover,  242.  Wurtemberg,  785. 

Example,  teaching  by,  585,  863. 
Examination  on  leaving  Gymnasium,  92,  724,  843. 
Examen  pro  facultate  docendi,  476, 
Exclusion  from  school,  506,  593. 
Exner,  78,  100. 


908 


ELEMENTARY  AND  SECONDARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMANY. 


Fabricius,  Historic  Sacrae,  545. 
Faber,  compendium  Musical,  544. 
Factory  children  and  schools, 

Austria,  43,  105,  55,  886,  890. 

Baden,  131.  Prussia,  434,  750. 

Bavaria,  167.  Saxony,  553. 

Hanover,  229.  Wurternberg,  671. 

Facultas  docendi,  478. 
Faculties,  in  universities,  535. 

Cameralisten,  747. 

Jurisprudence,  84(5. 

Medicine,  849,  846. 

Pedagogy  and  Philosophy,  848. 

Theology,  Catholic,  848,  846. 

Theology,  Protestant,  848. 
Family  life  of  the  peasant,  362. 
Feeble-minded  children,  233,  677. 
Fees,  rates  of.     (See  Tuition.) 

Difficulties  in  collecting  obviated,  729. 

Influence  on  attendance,  729. 
Felbiger,  John  Ignaz  Von,  347. 
Female  Education,  177,  540. 
Female  Industries,  64,  131. 
Female  teachers,  Hesse,  288. 

Baden,  127,  133.  Saxony,  558, 

Bavaria,  176.  Saxe-Coburg,  599,  897. 

Frankfort,  736.  Wurtemberg,  701. 

Feuchtersleben,  Baron  Von,  36,  78. 

Real  and  Burgher  schools,  99. 
Fichte,  cited,  647,  657. 
Finance,  faculty,  847. 
Fines  on  Parents,  134,  283,  592. 
Firmian,  Count,  memorial  of,  27. 
Forest-culture,  621,  852. 
Fort-bildungsschulen,  or  Supplementary  schools,  434. 

Austria,  56.  Buvaria,  205. 

Baden,  123.  .      Wurtemberg,  671. 

Formula  Concordise,  546. 
Francis  Joseph,  Etnperor  of  Austria,  73. 

School  code  of  1869,  885. 

Inspection  of  schools  and  the  church  of  1808,  892. 
Franke  at  Halle,  338,  369. 
Frankfort,  area,  population,  schools,  731,  737. 

Collegiate  Church  schools,  732. 

Gymnasium,  Model  school,  737. 

Burgher  High  school,  737. 
Fraternity  of  poor  scholars,  733. 
Frederick  I.,  of  Prussia,  338. 

School  regulation  of  1715,  339. 
Frederick  II.,  342,  861. 

Regulations  for  village  schools  in  1760,  342. 

General  regulation  for  country  schools,  343  861. 

Reform  of  Secondary  schools,  436. 

Letter  on  Education,  437. 

Regulations  for  Catholic  schools,  869. 

Normal  schools  in  Silesia,  1869. 
Frederick  William  I.,  436. 
Frederick  William  III ,  353,  362. 

Abolition  of  serfdom,  363. 

School-section  in  Ministry  of  Interior,  361,  440. 

Educational  policy,  360,  438. 
•'"  Letter  to  Wollner,  439. 
Frederick  William  IV.,  364. 

Tribute  to  Pestiilozzi,  364. 
FREE  HANSEATIC  cities,  731,  845.  859. 

Bremen,  732,  739.  Hamburg,  731,  740. 

Frankfort,  731,  737.         Lubeck,  732,  740. 
Free,  or  Gratuitous  instruction,  798. 
Free  lodgings  for  teachers,  897. 
Frieburg,  university,  846. 
French  language  in 

Austria,  86,  104.  Hanover,  253. 

Baden,  142.  Prussia,  496. 

Bavaria,  185.  Wurtemberg,  720, 

French  System  in  Rhenish  Provinces,  456. 
Fruit-culture,  50. 
Fulda,  234,  275. 

Funds,  for  school  expenses,  61,  69,  249. 
Furstenberg,  Count  Bishop,  388. 

Austria,  58,  887.     . 

Prussia,  425. 


Galicia,  23,  29,  41,  61. 

Gall,  J.  A.,  labors  in  Austria,  30. 

Socratic  system,  31.  ;^'S 

Gang-schools,  in  Pomerania,  351. 
Gardens  attached  to  schools,  226. 
Garden-culture,  for  teachers.  226,  4] 5. 
Gedike,  358. 

Schools  for  Girls,  359. 

Burgher  school,  551. 
Gelehrtenschulen,  135. 

Gemund,  Catholic  Seminary  for  teachers,  691. 
Geography  in  Elementary  schools, 

Austria,  52.  Bavaria,  169. 

Baden,  16.  Prussia,  420. 

Geography  in  Gymnasia. 

Austria.  79,  88.  Hanover,  189. 

Baden,  143.  Prussia,  786,  807. 

Bavaria,  169.  Wurtemberg,  715. 

Geography  in  Real  School  in 

Austria,  103.  Prussia,  502. 

Hanover,  255,  256.  Wurtembeig,  720. 

Geometry,  419. 
Gera,  public  schools,  528. 

Rutheneum  Gymnasium,  528. 
German  language  and  literature. 

Austria,  87.  Prussia,  783,  806,  839. 

Baden,  143.  Wurtemberg,  683. 

Hanover,  253. 
German  Pedagogy,  Schools,   and   Teachers,  903,   904. 

Barnard's  publications  respecting,  904. 

Steiger's  Contents  of  catalogue,  920. 
German  schools,  why  so  called,  31,  653,  715,  798. 

Saxony  in  1580,  547.        Hanover,  235. 

Brunswick,  208.  Prussia,  798,  801. 

Bavaria,  159.  Wurtemberg,  653. 

Free  Cities,  71. 

German  work  Day  schools,  159. 
Germany,  in  1815,  general  view,  15. 

Organization   area,  population,  1867,  743. 

Public  instruction,  summary  and  statistics,  743. 

1.  Elementary  schools,  744. 
Teachers'  seminaries,  813. 

2.  Secondary  schools,  845. 

3.  Superior  schools  or  universities,  846. 

4.  Special  schools,  850. 

5.  Higher  instruction  in  30  cities,  859. 

6.  School  Codes— old  and  new,  861. 

Gertsner,  plan  for  Real  school,  99.  '  vjg 

Gesner,  239,  549. 
Gewerbeschulen,  151,  850. 
Geissen,  Gymnasium,  289. 

University,  846. 

Gingst,  German  school  at,  375. 
Girls,  Special  and  Higher  schools  for 

Anhalt,  19.  Lippe-Detmold,  306. 

Austria,  122.  Snxony,  560. 

Baden,  152.  Saxe-Altenberg,  571. 

Bavaria,  176.  Saxe-Coburg,  597. 

Brunswick,  215.  Saxe-Meiningen,  621. 

Hanover,  232.  Saxe- Weimar,  633. 

Hesse-Cassel,  274.  Wurtemberg,  669. 

Hesse-Darmstadt,  298. 
Glatz,  in  Silesia  Regulations,  870. 
Gotha,  city  schools,  572,  596. 

Normal  school,  385,  598,  896. 

Technical  school,  599.  * 

Gymnasium,  595. 

Sunday  school,  599. 
Gottingen,  Latin  school,  237. 

Seminary  for  Secondary  teachers,  238,  245. 

Mathematical  and  Physical  Seminary,  246. 

Scientific  Committee  of  Examination,  245. 

University,  238,  846. 
Governesses,  first  school  for,  359. 
Gratz,  university,  846. 
Grammar,  methods  of  teaching,  783,  806. 
Greek  language, 

Austria,  87.  Saxony,  543,  652. 

Baden,  142.  Prussia,  497, 

Bavaria,  185.  Wurtemberg,  709,  715. 

Hanover,  1H7,  239,  252. 


ELEMENTARY  AND  SECONDARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMANY. 


909 


Grew,  city  schools.  528. 
Griefswalde,  normal  school,  381. 

University,  524,  846. 
Guild,  of  teachers,  735. 
Gustrow,  school  statistics,  315,  318. 

Cathedral  School,  316. 
Gymnasium,  details  of  organization,  &c., 

Grades  and  classification,  82. 

Administration  and  supervision,  82,  135,  714. 

Teachers,  grades,  duties,  83,  136,  713,  148. 

Training  and  appointment,  93,  721. 

Salaries  and  pensions,  85. 

Scholars,  admission,  promotion,  91,  138,  49(5. 

Fees,  85,  94,  138,  714. 

Discipline,  717. 

Lesson  tables,  715,  495,  496. 

Hygiene,  717. 

Gymnastics,  718,  500. 

Leaving— examination,  92,  317,  724,  843. 

Confessional,  135. 
Gymnasium,  specimens  of, 

"Brunswick,  217,  Lippe-Detmold,  306. 

Cassel,  275.  Tiibingen,  715. 

Cothen,  19.  Neustrelitz,  321. 

Dessau,  19.  Mayence,  290. 

Hanover,  256.  Schwerin,  315. 

Gymnastics,  Hanover,  256. 

Austria,  54.  Prussia,  422,  500. 

Baden,  145.  Wurtemberg,  685,  718. 

Bavaria,  190. 

IJulberstadt,  teachers'  seminary,  368. 
Unloander,  founder  of  Comments  on  Justiuinn,  635. 
Half-day  instruction.  62,  229,  284,  646,  862. 
Hulle,  university,  846, 

Franke's  labors,  369. 

Pedagogic  seminary,  479. 
Hamilton,  Sir  William,  745. 
Hamburg,  city  schools,  731,  740,  859. 

Gymnasial  academy,  740. 
Hanau,  274. 

Handel,  labors  in  Neisse,  368. 
Hanover,  city  school  statistics,  858. 

Real  school,  157. 
HANOVER,  Kingdom,  219. 

Area,  population,  219. 

1.  Primary  schools,  321,  228,  744. 

2.  Secondary  schools,  234. 
Classical,  242,  250. 
Realistic,  257. 

3.  Superior,  846. 

4.  Special,  850. 
Teachers'  seminaries,  815. 
Girls'  school,  Blind  Mutes,  233. 

Harnisch,  cited,  366,  368,  371. 
Hnynau,  Baron,  gift  to  schools,  113. 
Head-master,  Oberlehrer,  886. 
Health  of  pupils  in 

Elementary  schools,  767. 

Gymnasiums,  494,  717. 
Hebrew,  in  Gymnasium,  252,  270,290,  547. 
Uecker,  J.  Julius,  343,  501,  799. 
Hedge-schools,  227. 

Hegel,  Prof,  of  Philosophy  at  Berlin,  441. 
Heinicke,  Samuel,  institution  for  deaf-mutes,  550. 
Heidelberg,  Catechism,  304. 

University,  846. 
Helmstadt  University,  211,  237. 
Helfert,  Von,  40. 
Herder,  John  Gottfried,  307. 

Hermann,  Geo.,  Philosophical  seminary,  Leipsic,  551. 
Hess,  Prof.,  gymnasia!  reform,  70. 
HESSE  CASSEL,  Electorate,  263. 

Area,  population,  government,  263. 

1.  Elementary  schools,  265,  744. 

2.  Higher  schools,  282,  845. 
Real  schools,  272,  845. 
Gymnasiums,  274,  945. 

3.  Special  schools.  277,  866. 

HESSE  DARMSTADT,  Grand  Duchy,  279. 
Area,  population,  government,  279. 


HESSE  DARMSTADT, 

1.  Primary  or  lower  schools,  281,  744. 

2.  Classical  school  system,  289,  855. 
3    Real  and  trade  schools,  295,  850. 
4.  Female  schools,  298. 

Heyne,  Christian  G.,  schools  in  Gottingen.,  241). 

Higher  Burgher  schools,  503,  845,  859. 

High  school,  33,  41. 

High  Consistory,  345. 

Hilburghausen,  Teachers'  seminary,  607,  611. 

Hildesheim,  228. 

Historical   development    of     schools,     (See   Austria, 

Baden,  etc.) 

History  in  Gymasiums.  38,  139,  143,  188,  496. 
Hoch,  ^Epinus,  372. 
Hochegger,  81. 
Hohenzollern,  425,  453,  518. 
Holidays  in, 

Austria,  147.  Hesse,  269,  286. 

Baden,  128.  Saxony,  556. 

Bavaria,  168.  Saxe-Altenburg,  570. 

Brunswick,  210.  Saxe-Meiningen,  609. 

Hanover,  222,  259.  Wurtemberg,  686. 

Hollweg,  minister  of  public  instruction,  417. 

Normal  school  regulation,  417. 

Memorial  on  school  regulations,  421. 
HOLSTEIN,  School  system  and  statistics,  643. 
Home  and  its  surroundings,  lessons  in  Geography,  707. 
Home  preparation  of  lessons,  171,  685. 
Horn-book,  581. 
History  in  common  schools,  842. 
HUNGARY,  23,  107,  113, 120. 

Catholic,  Jewish,  Lutheran  schools.  111. 

Protestant  schools  and  influence,  108. 
Hygienic  condition  of  schools,  492,  7(17,717. 
Hymns,  to  be  memorized,  304,418,  423. 

School  movement  of  1848,  113. 

Statistics  of  schools,  115, 121. 

Part  of  religious  instruction,  204,  683. 

Regulations  of  Frederick  II.,  1763,  866. 

Idiotic  children,  676,  677. 
Ilfeld  gymnasium,  237. 
Illiteracy. 

Austria,  65.  Prussia,  792. 

Baden,  127.  Wurtemberg,  679. 

Bavaria,  167. 
Incarceration,  146,506. 
Industrial  Schools,  131,  192,  550,560. 
Industrial  Schools  in 

Baden,  154.  Prussia,  526, 

Bavaria,  196,  205.  Saxony,  560. 

Brunswick,  215.  Saxe-Altenburg,  571. 

Hanover,  233.  Saxe-Gotha,  599. 

Hesse,  270,  277,  297.         Saxe- Weimar,  633. 

Lippe-Schaumburg,  307.  Saxe-Meiningen,  C20. 

Oldenburg,  331.  Wurtemberg,  671. 

Industrial  element  in  common  schools. 

Austria,  54.  Bavaria,  170,  196. 

Biulen,  131.  Hesse-Cassel,  277. 

Inspruck,  University,  846. 
Infant  Schools  and  Kindergarten,  671,  648. 
Informing  of  pupils,  by  each  other,  687. 
Inspectors  and  Inspection. 

Austria,  44.  Saxony,  553. 

Baden,  127.  Saxe-Gotha,  594,  899. 

Bavaria,  162.  Saxe-Weimar,  626. 

Hanover,  228.  Wurtemberg,  664. 

Prussia,  753,  876. 

Intermediate  Schools,  135,  229,  669. 
Itinerating  students  and  teachers,  533. 
% 

Janitor  in  Gymnasium,  473. 
Jena,  university,  846. 
Jesuits  in,  Austria,  28,  67,  69. 

Bavaria,  179.  Prussia,  343. 

Hungary,  107. 
Jewish  Schools  in, 

Austria,  29,  31.  Hesse-Cnssel,  371. 

Bnden,  124.  Lippe-Detmold,  304. 

Bavaria,  166.  Prussia,  348,  403,  425. 


910 


ELEMENTARY  AND  SECONDARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMANY. 


Jewish  Schools,  in 

Hungary,  114.  Wurtemberg,  667,  728. 

Jeziorowsky,  Joseph,  356. 
Joachimsthal  gymnasium,  460. 
Journey,  expense  of  school,  472. 
Joseph  I,  of  Austria,  68. 
Joseph  II,  of  Austria,  71. 

Educational  work,  in  Hungary,  J09. 
Josephine  Catechism  in  Baden,  121. 
Julius,  Duke  of  Brunswick,  208,  237. 
Julius,  Dr.,  on  Prussian  schools  as  they  were,  833. 
Junker  school,  735. 

Jurisprudence,  faculty  and  practice,  847. 
Juliana,  Princess  of  Lippe-Schaumburg,  307. 
Jus  Patronatus,  863. 

Kamptz,  Von,  442. 

Mandate  of  1824,  443. 

Kay,  Primary  Schools  in  Germany,  748,  792. 
Kellner.  on  Catholic  Schools,  423. 
Kiel,  Public  Schools,  646. 

University,  846. 
Kindergarten,  434. 

Attached  to  Seminaries  for  female  teachers,  887. 

Teachers  must  be  acquainted  with  system,  888. 

Kohler's  in  Gotha,  598. 
Kochly,  gymnasial  reform,  564. 
Kindermunn,  29. 
Kleemann,  80. 

Klurnpp,  F.  W.,  and  Real  school,  718. 
Koningsberg,  university,  846. 

Professorship  and  Seminary  of  History,  486. 
Korturn,  446. 

Krause,  Private  Gymnasium,  563. 
Krunitz,  Village  School,  362. 
Kreise,  or  Circle  government,  25. 
Kurtnark,  neglect  of  schools,   345,  438. 

Normal  school  in  1748,  342. 
Krassow,  Count,  School  of  Pomerania,  378. 

Change  produced  by  Prussia,  380. 

Lancasterian  system  in  Germany,  760. 
Land  proprietors,  duty  to  schools,  760. 
JLang,  J.  F.  Plan  of  reform,  73. 
Language  and  Grammar,  774,  806. 

Prussian  Regulation,  806. 
Language  used  in  instruction,  53. 

Austria,  53,  77,  81,  88,  101,  885. 
[languages,  time  and  method,  to, 

English,  253,  256,  717. 

German,  87,  102, 185,  253,  290,  496,  502. 

French,  139,  142,  150,  253.  496,  715. 

Greek,  88,  139,  183,  252,  497,  715. 

Hebrew,  252,291,  715. 

Latin,  86,  139,  185,  261,  281,  483,  502,  715. 
Latin  conversation,  236. 
Latin  Grammar  versus  literature,  77. 
Latin  in  Gymnasiums, 

Austria,  86.  Baden,  140. 

Bavaria,  186.  Hanover,  239. 

Wurtemburg,709,  715.    Prussia,  496. 
Latin  in  Real  Schools, 

Austria,  107.  Prussia,  502. 

Latin  Schools,  of  the  16th  Century,  236,  709. 

Wurtemberg,  709,  711.     Bavaria,  181. 

Hanover,  236. 

LA.UENBURG,  Duchy  of,  645. 
Lnw  and  Jurisprudence,  820. 
•  Leibnitz,  548. 

LKICHTENSTEIN,  Principality,  301. 
Leipsic,  533,  540,,846,  859. 

St.  Thomas  Singing  School,  532. 

University  1409,  533,  547,  846. 

Professorship  of  Pedagogy  in  1815,  551. 

First  Real  School  in  Saxony,  551,  559. 
Lemgo,  Gymnasium,  306. 
Leopold  II.  and  School  Reform,  73. 
Lesson,  plans  of  Classical   Gymnasium,  54,  96,  185 

256,  270,  496,  552,  396,  643,  715. 

Lesson,  plans  of  Real  School  and  Real  Gymnasiums 
196,  257, 295,  502,  644,  720. 


Liberty  of  Instruction,  892. 

Liberty  of  religious  training,  30.  " 

Libraries  in  Gymnasiums,  145,  716. 
Life-insurance  for  teachers,  319. 
LIMBUR.G,  Duchv  of,  308. 
LIPPE-DETMOLD,  Principality  of,  303,  306. 
Area,  Population,  303. 

1.  Primary  Schools,  303. 

2.  Secondary  Schools,  306. 
LIPPE-SCH  AUM  BURG. 

Primary  schools,  teachers'  seminary,  307. 

Gymnasium  and  Latin  school,  307. 

Burgher  school— Female  High  school,  307. 
Littorale,  Statistics  and  schools,  23,  62. 
Limitation  of  subjects  in  Common  Schools,  808. 
Liturgies  for  Schools,  164,802,  899. 
Local  authorities  in  school  administration. 

Austria,  892.  Mecklenburg,  311. 

Baden,  127.  Nassau.  325, 

Bavaria,  161.  Oldenburg,  327. 

Hanover,  228.  Prussia,  752. 

Hesse-Darmstadt,  283.          Saxe-Gotlm,  587, 899. 

Hesse-Cassel,  26U.  Wurtemberg,  665. 

Lombnrdy,  35,61,  95. 
Lorinzer,  Health  in  Gymnnsia,  494. 
Louisa,  Queen  of  Prussia,  360. 
Lubeck,  School  System,  732,  740. 

Catharineum  Gymnasium  and  Real  School,  740. 
Liulwigslnst,  Deaf-mute  School,  314. 
Luther,  Martin,  575,  621,  625. 
Luther's  Catechism,  541,  791,  804,  866. 

Influence  on  Schools,  236, 535,  709. 
Lutheran  High  Consistory,  342.  ' 
LUXEMBURG,  Duchy  of,  308. 

Public  Instruction,  308. 
Lyceum,  137,  181. 

Madebach,  Jacob,  in  Frankfort,  735. 
Madgeburg,  369,  859. 

Influence  on  School  Reform,  368.  , 

Order  of  Visitation,  463. 
Magyars,  107,  110. 
Major,  George,  Epitome,  544. 
Management  of  Schools,  439,  577. 
Mann,  Horace,  756. 

Account  of  Schools  of  Prussia,  773. 

Prussian  teachers  and  their  training,  823. 
Mannheim,  Higher  Burgher  Schools,  150. 
Manorial  Schools,  319. 
Marburg,  University,  8-16. 
Maria  Institute  at  Gotha,  597. 
Maria  Theresa,  26,  30,  69. 

General  Law  of  Schools  of  Austria,  879. 
Marine  Schools,  526, 

Marks,  system  of,  in  examination,  692,  165. 
Martini,  Gymnasium  reform  in  Austria,  32,  72. 
Marx,  Gratian,  System  for  Austria,  71. 
Massow,  Minister  of  Education,  354,  356. 

Plan  of  School- Reform,  355. 

Schools  of  Pomeranin,  350. 
Maturity  examination,  495,  724,  843. 

Austria,  92.  Prussia,  843. 

Mecklenburg,  317.  Wurtemberg,  724. 

Mathematics  in  Gymnasium. 

Austria,  88. 

Baden,  144. 

Bavaria,  185. 

Prussia,  497. 
Mathematics,  professors  of,  24(5,  818. 

Early  introduction,  534. 
Maurice,  Elector  of  Saxony,  539. 
Mayence,  296, 

Mechanics  School  in  1751,  98. 
MECKLENBURG,  Duchy  of,  309. 

1.  Schwerin,  309,  310. 

2.  Strelitz,  318. 

Medicine,  Faculty  of,  846,  849. 
Meierotto,  437. 

Meiningen,  city  Schools,  634,  855. 

Gymnasium,  of  1544,  633. 
Meissen,  Cathedral  and  Royal  School,  531,  551. 


ELEMENTARY  AND  SECONDARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMANY. 


911 


Melunchthon, 

Book  of  Visitations,  535. 

Plan  of  Schools  in  1528,  536. 

Grammar  and  other  text-books,  541. 
Memorizing  Psalms  and  Scripture,  417,  421. 

Bavaria,  169. 

Prussia,  804. 

Wurtemberg,  655. 
Memory,  overburdening,  418. 
Mensam  cursoriam,  376. 
Messmer,  Joseph,  27;. 

Methods  of  Instruction,  439,  557,  577,  583,  716. 
Micyllus,735. 

Mileage,  for  teachers  on  School  visits,  473. 
Middle  Schools,  329,  359. 
Migatzzi,  Archbishop,  69. 
Military  Frontier  in  Austria,  23,  35.  46,  68. 
Military  system  and  schools,  583,  586,  834. 
Mining,  schools  of,  858. 
Ministries  charged  with  supervision  of  schools, 

Commerce  and  public  works,  156. 

Education  and  medical  affairs,  411. 

Interior,  127,  207. 

Ecclesiastical  affairs,  162. 

Worship.  82,  228. 

Public  instruction,  162,  244. 

Distribution  of  schools  in  Austria,  22. 

Diagram  of  arrangement  in  Bavaria,  156. 
Ministry  of  Public  Instruction, 

Austria,  32.  Wurtemberg,  664,  704. 

Baden,  127.  Bavaria,  162,  184. 

Hesse-Darmstadt,  283.       Hanover,  244. 

Prussia,  350,  361,  411.       Saxony,  5.>1. 
Minors,  punishment  of,  G83. 

Policeman,  688. 

Teacher,  688. 

Parent,  688. 
Mirabeau,  cited,  331. 
Mirow,  teachers'  Seminary,  322. 
Mixed  Schools  as  to  confessions,  109,  122,  400,  753. 

Experience  in  Silesia,  800. 
Mixed  Schools  as  to  Sex,  40. 
Model  or  Normal  Schools  in  Austria,  28,  41,  887. 
Modern  Language,  886. 
Monitors  in  Prussian  schools,  761. 
Mother  Tongue,  see  Native  Language. 
Monthly  record  book,  213,  230. 
Morality  in  Austrian  Schools,  71. 
Moravia,  23,  61,  95. 
Moravian  brethren,  550,  597. 
Morus,  Samuel  F.,  551. 
Mountain-blessing  in  Saxony,  531, 
Motives  to  study  and  work,  589. 
Munich,  Schools,  859. 

University,  846. 
Munster,  Schools,  859. 

University,  846. 

Muhler,  Ministry  of  Public  Instruction,  447. 
Music,  Instruction  in  Elementary  Schools, 

Austria,  34.  Bnden,  130. 

Bavaria,  170.  Hanover,  239,  256. 

Prussia,  792,  808.  Saxony,  544. 

Wurtemberg,  685. 
Music  in  Normal  School,  694,  808. 
Music  in  Gymnasia,  694. 
Music  in  Real  School,  720. 
Myconius,  F.,  574,  595,  715. 

Gymnasium,  at  Gotha,  595. 

Nagali,  Method  of  teaching  singing,  657,  685. 
NASSAU,  Duchy  of,  323. 

Public  Instruction— historical,  323. 

Obligatory  attendance  in  1624,  323. 

Teachers'  Seminary  in  1734,  324. 

1.  Elementary  Schools,  324. 

Parental  and  communal  obligations,  324. 

2.  Secondary  Education,  325. 
Pedagogium — Gymnasium,  326. 

Nations,  division  of  students  into,  535. 
Merged  in  Faculties,  535. 


Native  Language,  how  taught,  177. 

Austria,  87. 

Baden,  130,  139, 143,  150. 

Bavaria,  169,  177,  185,  188,  196. 

Hanover,  253,  256. 

Hesse,  575,  292. 

Mecklenburg,  321.  .  ,       , 

Oldenburg,  32S. 

Prussia,  364,  434,  495,  772. 

Saxony,  547,  552. 
National  holidays  observed,  442. 
Nationality,  Austria,  25,  42,  95. 
Nationality  of  Germany,  361. 

Austria,  25,  42,  95.  Prussia,  365. 

Nature,  common  phenomena,  789. 
Natural  History. 

Austria,  89.  Baden,  144. 

Prussia,  789.  Saxony,  551. 

Naval  Schools. 

Mecklenburg,  314. 
Navigation  Schools,  314,  331,  857. 
Neander,  237. 
Needle  work,  229.  Austria,  54,  886. 

Prussia,  422.  Baden,  131. 

Saxe-Gotha,  589. 
Neglected  Children,  School  for, 

Saxe-Meiningen   620.       Baden,  153. 
Neukloster,  Teachers'  Seminary,  314. 
Neumark,  344. 

Newspapers,  26.  .    :,, 

Niavis  (Schneevoge!),  534. 
Nicolovius,  440,  442. 
Niemeyer,  369,  437. 
Nitzsch,  Prof.  639. 
Noiine,  Dr.  Ludwick,  606. 

Labors  in  Hildburghausen,  606. 

Extraordinary,  or  Special  course  for  teachers,  607. 
Normal,  meaning  of,  in  Austria,  41,  880. 

Established  by  Frederick  II,  869. 
Normal  Schools,  for  elementary  teachers, 

Number  and  Statistics,  814. 

Historical,  108,  338,  339,  869. 

Authorities  in  administration,  173. 

Condition  and  mode  of  Admission,  165,  693. 

Subjects,  course  of  studies,  887. 

Examinations,  165,  693. 

Model  School,  692. 

Teachers,  691. 

Practice  School,  887. 
Normal  School  System  in  Prussia,  819. 
Notaries,  435. 

Nurlingen,  Normal  School,  691. 
Nuremberg.  School  system,  170,  859. 

Agricultural  department,  198. 

Official  Position  of  Teachers,  147. 

Object  Lessons,  579,  590. 

Object  Teaching.  54. 

Observation,  habit  of,  590,  768. 

Observatores  morum,  or  Street  Monitors,  546. 

Obligatory  school  attendance,  C09,  656,  662,  703. 

Date  of  introduction,  209,  222,  281,  319,  861,  882. 

Results  in  Prussia,  381. 

Legal  limit,  661,  703. 
OLDENBURG,  Grand  Duchy  of,  327. 

Public  Instruction,  327. 

1.  Elementary  Schools,  327,  744. 
Supreme  School  Board,  327. 
Parental  Communal  Duties,  327. 

Programme  of  School  of  one  and  two  classes,  328. 
Middle  Schools,  Higher,  Burgher,  Private,  Infant,  329 

2.  Secondary  Schools,  330,  845. 
Gymnasium'  of  Oldenburg,  Vechta,  330. 

3.  Professional  and  Special  Schools  331,  850. 
Navigation  School,  Teachers'  Seminary,  331. 

Olivier  of  Dessau,  359. 
Optional  Studies,  ](»4. 
Opening  School  with  Prayer,  633,  804. 

Discussion  respecting,  812. 
Oral  Examination,  479. 


912 


ELEMENTARY  AND  SECONDARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMANY. 


Orchards,  care  of,  taught,  54. 
Ordinarius,  or  class  teacher,  246,  563. 
Osnabruck,  Cathedra!  School,  2-28. 
Oral  exercises  in  language,  87,  130. 
Organ  playing  for  teachers,  696. 
Organists,  as  teachers,  391. 
Orphans  of  teachers, 

Austria,  51,  85.  Mecklenburg,  317. 

Baden,  135.  Prussia,  432. 

Bavaria,  175.  Schleswig,  642. 

Brunswick,  215.  Snxon-Principalities,5GO, 

Hanover,  23-2.  6J6,  620,  630. 

Hesse,  264,  288.  Wurtemberg,  701. 

Lippe-Detinold,  335, 
Orphans'  Asylums,  216,  233,  567,  599,  620,  633,674. 

Special  Judges  for,  153,  206, 
Out  of  School  hours  an<l   premises,  pupils,   129,  146, 

171,386,689. 

Outside  Occupation  for  the  Teacher,  232,  699,  821. 
Overberg,  Normal  School  at  Munster,  385. 
Over-governing  in  Germany,  810. 

Padagogik,  837,  841. 

Parental  rights  and  duties,  381,  749,  887,  895. 

Law  of  Saxe-Coburg-Gotha,  89.3. 

Fined  fur  neglect  as  to  attendance,  895. 

Laws  of  Austria,  887. 
Parental  rights  and  duties  as  to 

Attendance  of  children   at  school,  42,  128,  227,  887, 
895. 

Religious  instruction  of  children,  895. 

Private,  or  family  instruction,  896. 

Interference  with,  or  abuse  of  teachers,  896. 

Labor  of  children,  131,887. 

Appeal  to  committees,  G'JIi. 

Payment  of  fees,  890,  896. 

Behavior  and  offenses  out  of  school,  688. 

Text-books  and  aids  of  instruction,  37,  887. 
Parish  in  School  organization, 

Austria,  25,  42.  Oldenburg,  328. 

Baden,  124,  135.  Prussia,  752,  799. 

Bavaria,  161.  Saxony,  551. 

Hesse-Darmstadt,  282.      Snxon  Principalities,  623. 

Hanover,  236.  Wurtemberg,  708. 

Mecklenburg,  311,  319. 
Particular  Schools,  546. 
Pasturage  for  cow  of  teacher,  320,  372. 
Pattison,  Mark,  Report  on  German  Schools,  798. 

Substance  of  Prussian  Regulations.  837. 
Payments  in  kind,  272,  697. 
Pedagogical  Seminaries  and  Professors,  848. 

Berlin,  487.  Breslau,  488. 

Gottingen,  245.  Hnlle,  48!». 

Magdeburg,  489.  Stettin,  488. 

Vienna,  75,  93. 
Pedagogium,  137,  325,  489. 
Penmanship,  207,  784,  841. 

Frederick  II,  regulations,  872. 
Pensions  for  teacher, 

Anhalt,  20.  Mecklenburg,  317. 

Austria,  51.  Prussia,  410,  431,  474. 

Baden,  133.  Saxony,  554. 

Bavaria,  175.  Saxe-Altenburg,  569. 

Hanover,  232.  Saxe-Coburg,  898 

Brunswick,  215.  Saxe-Meiningen,  615. 

Hesse-Cassel,  264.  Saxe-Weimar,  (MO. 

Hesse-Darmstadt,  285.    Wurtemberg,  711. 

Lippe-Detmold,  305. 

Perceptive  faculties,  end  and    measure  of  infant  cul- 
ture, 591. 

Periodicals.  School,  660;  830. 
Pestalozzi,  367,  370. 

Royal  tribute  to  his  principles.  364. 

Official  reaction  against.  367,  657. 

Religious  teaching,"  802. 
Pestalozzianisrn  in  Germany,  356,  300,  804. 

Wurtemberg,  657 
Peter  Von  Dresden,  533. 
Philology,  instruction  in,  479  848. 
Philological  Seminaries,  848. 

Berlin,  484.  Koningsberg,  485. 


Philological  Seminaries. 

Heidelberg,  149.  Tiibingen,  721. 

Philosophy,  in  6ymnasium. 

Austria,  89.  Bavaria,  189. 

Baden,  145.  Prussia,  408. 

Philosophical  classes  and  schools. 

Austria,  75,  77,  78,  111. 

Baden,  145. 

Physics  in  Gymnasiums,  Austria,  89. 
Piarists,  26,68,  71,109. 
Plan  of  Sessions,  J30. 
Playground  to  School,  758. 
Plutarch,  Instruction  of  Boys,  read  in  1580,  547. 
Poland,  Schools  in,  449,  870. 

Language  in  schools,  450. 
Polytechnic  Schools,  197,  853. 
Poinerania,  371,  452. 
Posen,  Province,  390.  449. 
Potsdam,  Schools,  859. 
Practice,  School  of,  887. 
Prayer  in  School, 

Austria,  130.  Prussia,  802,  864. 

Baden,  130.  Hanover,  186. 

Bavaria.  171.  Wurtemberg,  683. 

Praparanden,  160,  213,  841. 
Poor  parents,  to  be  helped,  862. 
Poor  children,  separate  school,  166. 

How  supplied  with  books,  874. 
Poor  students,  546,  669. 
Prague,  school,  859. 

University,  846. 
Preceptor,  721. 

Temporarily  employed  teacher  in  Thuringia.  607. 
Prepariti,  34. 

Primary  Instruction,  limits  to,  706,  808. 
Primary  Schools  in  Anhalt,  17,  20,  744. 

Austria,  26,  744. 

Baden,  122,  744. 

Bavaria,  158,744. 

Brunswick,  219,744. 

Free  Cities,  744. 

Hanover,  221,  744. 

Hesse-Cassel,  265,  744. 

Hesse-Darmstadt,  281,  744. 

Leichtenstein,  302,  744. 

Lippe-Detmold,  303,  744. 

Lippe-Shaumburg,  307,  744. 

Luxemburg  and  Lirnburg,  308,  744. 

Mecklenburg  Schwerin.  310,  744. 

Mecklenburg  Strelitz,  318,  744. 

Nassau,  324,  744. 

Oldenburg,  327,  744. 

Prussia,  335,  744,  798. 

Reuss,  527,  744. 

Saxony,  554,  744. 

Saxon-Principalities,  565,  744. 

Saxe-Altenburg,  567,  744. 

Saxe-Coburg-Gotha,  573,  744. 

Saxe-Meiningen,  608,  744. 

Saxe-Weimar,  627,  744, 

Schleswig-Holstein,  640,  744. 

Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt,  649,  744. 

Shwarz-Sonderhausen,  650,  744. 

Waldeck,  651,  744. 

Wurtemberg,  653,  744. 
Principia  Regulativa,  340. 

Provisions  respecting  schools,  340. 
Printing,  534. 
Printzen,436. 

Privileges  of  gymnasial  students,  506.  , 

Professor,  title  of,  471. 
Prussia,  Duchy  of,  333. 
PRUSSIA.  Kingdom  of, 

Area,  Population,  History,  333. 

Public  Instruction,  335,  462,  744. 

1.  Primary  Schools,  335. 
Historical  development  by  reigns,  335. 
Development  by  Provinces,  368. 
Schools  as  they  were,  362,  833. 
Statistical,  Resu'lts  in  1819,  1861,  424,  744. 

2.  Secondary  Schools,  435. 


ELEMENTARY^AND  SECONDARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMANY. 


953 


RJSSIJA, 

Development  of  Administration,  435. 
Provincial  Progress,  447. 
Local  Administration,  460. 
Summary  of  School  Organizntion,  462. 
Teachers,  Appointment,  director,  463,  522. 
Professions,  Title,  Grades,  Salaries,  420. 
Examination  of  Teachers,  474. 
Seminaries  for  secondary  school  teachers,  484. 
Studies,  course,  methods,  492. 

Real  Schools,  and  Higher  Burgher  Schools,  501,  522. 
Review,  chronological  and  provincinl,  ,  5(J8. 

3.  Subjects,  courses  and  methods  of  Primary  Schools, 

745. 

4.  Teachers  and  their  training,  819. 

5.  Universities,  525,  846. 

6.  Special  schools,  526,  856. 
Private  Instruction  and  Schools  in, 

Austria,  92,  56,  891.        Saxony,  552. 

Baden,  145.  Saxe-Coburg,  896. 

Bavaria,  181.  Wurtemberg,  724. 

Prussia,  507,  757. 
Prizes,  171,  191,717,203. 
Programmes,  gymnasia!,  exchange  of,  508. 
Programme  for  schools  in  Saxe-Gotha,  588. 
Promotion  from  class,  91. 
Progymnasium,247,  516,  816,  845. 
Protestant  basis  of  Schools.  65,  76.  110,  798. 
Protestant  School  Authorities,  166. 
Provincial  or  District  School  Authorities, 

Austria,  45,  83,  97, 892.     Prussia,  753. 

Baden,  127.  Saxony,  564. 

Bavaria,  163.  Saxe-Coburg,  901. 

Hesse,  267,  283.  Wurtemburg.  665. 

Public  Schools  denned,  209,  425,  885,  892. 
Putfendorf,  Samuel,  548. 
Punishment,  mode  of, 

Austria,  56.  Prussia,  505. 

.Baden,  129,  146.  Saxe-Gotha,  580. 

Bavaria,  171.  Wurtemberg,  687. 

Punishment,  barbarous,  prohibited,  171,  506,  546,  609. 

Corporal,  restrained,  129,  258,  320,  609. 

Q,uadrivium,  531. 

Qualities,  inherent  of  a  good  teacher,  309,  383. 
Qualifications  of  teachers  acquired,  383. 
Uuinlilian,  text-book  in  Pedagogy  in  1580,  546. 

Rnbstein,  plan  of  mechanics'  school  1751,  98. 

Rank  of  Teachers  in  civil  service,  723. 

Rank  in  class,  506.  717. 

Ratich,  578. 

Ratio  Educationis,  109. 

Ratio  Studiorum,  67. 

Ratzeburg,  Principality  of,  320. 

Rnumer,  minister  of  education,  446. 

Regulations  of  1854,  416. 
Reader  in  Prussian  Schools,  419,  806. 

Wurtemberg,  683. 

Reading,  method  of  teaching,  590,  769,  779. 
Real  Commercial  Adademy  at  Vienna,  98. 
Real  Schools,  System  of, 

Anhalt,  19.  Nassau,  326. 

Austria,  98.  Oldenburg,  329. 

Baden,  149.  Prussia,  501,  522. 

Bavaria,  193.  Reuss,  528. 

Brunswick,  217.  Saxony,  551,  558. 

Free  Cities,  740.  Saxe-Altenburg. 

Hanover,  247,  257.  Saxe-Coburg,  596. 

Hesse-Cassel,  272.  Saxe-Meiningen.  625. 

Hesse- Darmstadt,  295.      Saxe-Weimar,  632. 

Lippe-Detmold,  306.         Schleswig-Hol.,  644, 647. 

Luxemburg,  308.  Schwarzburg,  650. 

Mecklnb'g-Shwerin,  318.  Waldeck,  652. 

Mecklenb'g-Stielitz,845.  Wurtemburg,  718. 
Real  Schools,  features  of, 

Grades,  101,  149. 

Administration,,  101,  150,  718. 

Teachers,  grades,  duties,  102,  719. 

Studies,  102,  104,  149,  150,  502,  719. 

Admission,  104,  150,  559. 


Real  Schools,  features  of, 

Discipline,  104. 

Examination,  104. 

Graduation,  104,  724. 

Expenses,  105,  149,  728. 

Statistics,  101,726,845. 

Libraries,  104. 

Practical  work,  105. 

Directors,  150. 

Central  Study,  719. 

Rank  of  teachers,  724. 

Rector,  or  director,  84,  148, 224,  326,  466,    .  i  J. 
Rector  Schools,  20,  229,  305. 
Referee,  in  Austrian  School  Board,  34. 
Reformation  of  16th  Century,  and  Schools,  663,  709. 
Regencies  in  Prussian  Organization,  515. 
Register,  or  official  list  of  children,  863,  873. 
Regularity  of  attendance,  55,  380. 
Regulativ,  Prussian,  of  1854,  802. 
Rent  Gymnasium,  Examples  of, 

Cobu'rg,  600.  Saalfield,  625. 

Gotha,  596.  Schleswig,  644. 

Leipsic,  559.  Stuttgard,  720. 

Manheim,  151.  Tubingen,  720. 

Meiningen,  625.  Weimar,  634. 

Re  igious  Instruction, 

Austria,  34,  39,  80,  89,      Oldenburg,  328. 

102,  885.  Prussia,  498,  770,  791,  7 

Baden,  130,  139.  803. 

Bavaria,  68,  171.  Saxe-Altenburg,  591. 

Brunswick,  209.  Saxe-Coburg,  602. 

Free  Cities,  737.  Saxe  Meiningen,  612. 

Hanover,  250.  Saxony,  545,  552. 

Hesse-Cassel,  270.  Saxe-Weimar,  631. 

Hesse-Darmstadt,  291.      Schleswig-Holstein,  643. 

Mecklenb'g-Strelitz,  338.  Schwazburg,  650. 

Nassau,  325.  Wurtemberg,  682,  770. 

Religious  life  and  the  School,  167. 
Repetition  School,  66,  648,  670,  672,  882. 
Rescue  Institutions,  203, 216,  223,  277. 
Retirement  of  teachers  of  Gymnasium,  85,  473. 
REUSS,  Principality  of,  area,  population,  528. 

Public  Instruction,  528. 
Reviews  of  lessons.  767. 
Reyher,  Andrew,  577. 
Rhenish  Provinces,  384,  425,  459. 
Rich  and  poor  educated  together,  166.   "~* 
Riese,  Adam,  540. 
Ritter  Academy,  238. 
Rochow,  657,  865.  -c: 

Children's  Friend,  655. 

Examples  of  improved  schools,  350. 
Rod,  indiscipline,  287,580. 
Roman  Catholics,  107,  428,  892. 

Relations  to  Schools  in  Prussia,  346,  389,  800. 
Romer,  Martin,  535. 
Rostock,  Schools,  859. 

University,  846. 
Rote  learning,  209,  809. 
Rottenhann,  Count,  32,  109. 

Board  of  Educational  Reform,  33. 

Gymnasium  Reform,  73. 

Real  Schools  and  Instruction,  98. 
Royal  Schools  in  Saxony,  546. 
Rural  Districts,  363,  604,  680. 

Saalfield,  Lyceum  and  real  schools,  621,  625. 
Sacristan,  relations  to  schools,  378,  575,  698,  861. 
Sagau,  Normal  School  of  Felbiger,  347.  869,  874. 
Seat  of  Catholic  School  reform,  347. 
Salzburg,  23,  61. 
Salaries  in, 

Baden,  133.  Prussia.  429. 

Bavaria,  175.  Saxe-Coburg,  593. 

Hanover,  229.  Wurtemberg,  628. 

Salaries,  insufficient.  382. 
Salzman  Institute  at  Schepfenthal,  597. 
Saturday,  half  or  entire  holiday,  146. 

Catechism-day,  545. 
SAXONY,  Kingdom,  531,  564. 

Area,  population,  history,  530.  -- 


914 


ELEMENTARY  AND  SECONDARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMANY. 


SAXONY, 

Historical  development  of  Educnt.ion,  530. 
Convent  and  Cathedral  schools,  531. 
School  plan  of  1528,  536. 
School  Order  of  the  Electorate  1580,  540. 
Studies,  discipline,  books,  546, 

1.  Common  Schools,  554,  744. 

2.  Secondary  schools,  562,  843. 

3.  Superior  school,  562,  846. 

4.  Special  school,  850. 

SAXON  PRINCIPALITIES,  stntistics,  565. 
ALTENBURG,  area,  population,  567. 
Historical  development,  567. 

1.  Schools  for  young  children,  568. 

2.  Common  schools  and  teachers,  569. 

3.  Classical  gymnasium,  572. 

4.  Supplementary,  571. 
COBURG-GOTHA,  area,  population,  572. 

1.  Elementary  schools,  573, 588,  600,  894. 
Historical,  Myconius,  Duke  Ernest,  575,600. 

2.  Higher  schools,  595. 
Gymnasium,  Ernestinum,  596. 

Reiil  school— Schnepfenthnl— Dietendorfer,  597. 
Maria  Institute— Girls'  High  School,  599. 

3.  Special  school  for  teachers,  architects,   etc.,   599 
MKININOKN,  area,  etc.,  605. 

1.  Elementary  system,  605,  608. 

2.  High  schools,  621. 
WKIMA.R,  area,  population,  627. 

1.  Elementary  schools,  626. 

2.  Higher  schools,  632. 
Schirmer,  in  Frankfort,  736. 
SCHLESWIG,  Duchy  of,  635. 
Schleiz,  early  school  in,  527. 

Rutheneurn  Gymnasium,  528. 
Teachers'  Seminary,  528. 

SCHLESW1G-HOLSTEIN,  Province  of  Prussia,  635. 
Historical  development  of  Schools,  636. 
Organization  and  condition  of  system,  640. 

1.  Elementary  schools,  640. 

2.  Secondary  Schools,  642. 

3.  Real  School,  644. 

Schmid's  method  of  drawing,  364,  777. 
Schmid's  Pedagogich  Encyclopadie,  3. 

Articles  based  on,  17,  135,  159,  207,  219,  264,  231, 

310,  327,  333,  567,  731. 
Schnepfenthal,  Salzmans  Institute,  597. 
Scholasticus,  531,  734. 
Scholars  to  a  teacher,  51,  129, 166,  248,  595. 
Schoningen,  public  schools,  212. 
School  Apprentices,  160. 
School  Architecture,  46,  160,  610,  796. 
School  Attendance.     (See  Attendance.) 
School  Committee,  125,  752. 
School  Codes,  89!.     (See  Codes.) 
School  Collegium,  443,  641. 
School  Diary,  171,269. 
School  Discourses,  862. 
School  Government,  54,  134,  171,  609,  704. 
School  Libraries,  53. 
School-house,  laws  respecting, 

Expenditures  on,  380. 

Frederick  II,  393,  870. 

Maria  Theresa,  879. 
School  Management,  837. 
School  Manual  of  Ernest,  581. 
School  Methods,  577. 
School  Order  for  Chemnitz,  1547,  540. 
School  Plan,  536.     (See  Plan  of  Studies.) 
School  Register,  863. 
Schubert,  Ferdinand,  40. 
Schulpforta,  562. 
Schuckmann,  441. 
Schulze,  Dr.  John,  441,  477. 
Schulze,  G.  of  Saxony,  554. 
SCHWARZBURG,  Principality,  649. 

Area,  population,  division,  649. 

Public  Instruction,  649. 

1.  Rudolstadt,  649. 

*  2.  Sondershausen,  650.  ™~~       „ 

Schwerin,  gymnasium,  315. 


Scripture,  Selections  from,  to  be  memorized,  41$. 
Secondary  Instruction,  defined,  135,  709. 
Secondary  schools  in  Germany,  843. 

Statistics,  846.     (See  Austria,  £c.) 
Sectarian  Schools.     (See  Confessional.) 
Sectarian  Instruction,  791,  800. 
Secular  Schools,  800,  801. 
Semler,  Charles,  and  Real  Schools,  501. 
Senses,  training  of,  778. 
Serfdom,  and  Schools.  25,  368. 
Sexes,  separation  of,  229,  304,  386. 
Seven  Years  War,  549. 
Seebeck,  Prof.,  plan  of  gymnnsium,  623. 
Sewing  and  knitting  school,  305. 
Schrotter,  356. 

Shepherd  Schools,  in  Lippe-Detmold,  304. 
Sickness  of  Teacher,  473. 
Siber,  Adam,  Nomenclature,  541. 
Silk  Culture,  353. 
Silesia,  in  Austria,  23,  61. 
Silesia,  in  Prussia,  3ti8,  428. 

Regulations  for  Catholic  Schools,  869. 
Simultaneous  method,  810. 
Singing  in  Common  Schools. 

Austria,  31,  54.  Himover,  256. 

Bnvaria,  170.  Prussia,  375,  808. 

Baden,  130,  145.  Saxe-Gotha,  591. 

Wurtemberg,  685. 
Singing  Associations,  364,  696. 
Sisters,  teaching  orders  of,  176,  233. 
Slavonia,  23,  61. 

Slate  and  Pencil,  early  uses  of,  779. 
Schneider,  founder  of  Rescue  House,  620. 
Spelling,  169,  683,  806. 

Prussian  Regulations  of  1763.  871. 
Special  Schools  in  Germany,  850. 
Spendou,  in  Austria,  34. 
Spener,  Jacob,  548. 
St.  Michaels  Sunday,  Discourse,  862, 

Collections  to  be  taken  up,  862. 
Stralsund,  early  schools  in,  372. 

Regulations  for,  372,  376. 
State  and  Schools,  27,  743.  799,  892. 
State  authorities,  in  Public  Instruction. 

Austria,  892.  Hesse  Darmstadt,  283. 

Baden,  126.  Prussia,  411,799. 

Bavaria,  162.  Saxony,  551. 

Brunswick,  298.  Snxe-Coburg,  901. 

Hanover,  298.  Wiirtemburg,  664,  705. 

Statistics  of  Schools  generally,  744,  846,  850. 
Steiger,  E.,  German  Pedagogy,  904. 
Stein,  School  Policy  for  Prussia,  361. 
Steinmetz,  338,  302. 

Labors  in  behalf  of  Normal  School,  339. 
Stenography,  regular  study  in  Gymnasium,  500. 

Real  schools,  104. 

Stephens,  Prof.  L.,  on  Normal  schools,  836. 
Stettin,  School  policy,  361,  859. 
Stiehl,  Frederick,  416,  422. 

Needlework  in  girls'  schools,  422. 

Author  of  Prussian  Regulations  of  1854,  416. 
Stowe,  Calvin  E.,  745. 
Strehl,  John,  40. 
Sturm,  John,  237. 
Stnttgardt  schools,  859. 

Burgher  School,  721. 

Pedagogium,  710. 

Real  Gymnasium,  720. 
Styria,  23,  61. 
Subjects  of  Elementary  Instruction,  745,  767. 

Too  many  and  too  diffuse,  158,  706. 

Necessity  of  limitation  and  concentration,  808. 
Subjects  of  Secondary  Instruction,  85,   139,   185,  249, 

492,715. 

Subjects  of  Real  School  Instruction,  273,  501,  720. 
Summer  Schools,  269,  285. 
Sunday  Schools  and  Lessons,    161,670,862. 

Austria,  105.  Hanover,  229, 

Baden,  131.  Hesse-Cassel,  270.  i 

Bavaria,  161.  Prussia,  357,  862. 

Superannuated  Teachers,  232,  305,  899.  t 


ELEMENTARY  AND  SECONDARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMANY. 


915 


Superintendence, 

(See  State  Authorities,  Provincial,  Municipal.) 
Superintendents  of  Church,  867. 
Supplementary  Schools  and  Instruction,  633. 
Support  of  Schools, 

Austria,  43.  Prussia,  528,  520,  758. 

Baden,  134.  Saxony,  552. 

Bavaria,  166,  183.  Saxon  Principalities,  595, 

Brunswick,  210.  630. 

Hanover,  226,  229.  Wurtemberg,  563,  727. 

Suvern,  School-Counsellor,  440. 
Superior  Primary  school,  758. 
Surgery,  schools  of,  526,  850. 
Swedish  influence  in  Pomerania,  380. 

Tacitus,  on  Germany,  cited,  375. 

Tatel,  or  Blackboard,  865. 

Taxation,  teachers'  exemption  from,  133,  232. 

Taxation  for  School  purposes,  663. 

Teacher,  particulars  respecting  office^of, 

Absence,  leave  of,  288,  472. 

Account-book,  213. 

Appointment,  174,465,  699. 

Appointment  document,  465. 

As  they  were,  374,  833. 

Associations,  695. 

Certificates,  grades  of,  164. 

Civil  Status,  160,  696. 

Commons,  320,  822. 

Conferences,  174,  695. 

Curriculum  Vita;,  470. 

Degrees,  481. 

Designation,  192. 

Dwelling,  320,  821. 

Examination,  470. 

Garden,  821. 

House  of  Instruction,  471. 

Installation,  231,  464. 

Journey  for  School  Inspection,  822. 

Legal  ideal,  173,  382,  464,  705,819. 

Library,  888. 

Life  Insurance,  215. 

Military  Service,  464. 

Misdemeanors,  472.    . 

Moral  Power,  464,  465,  613. 

Oath,  231,465. 

Oath  formula,  465. 

Orphans,  432. 

Outside  occupations,  353, 699. 

Pasturage,  632,  822. 

Pensions,  51,474. 

Permanent,  697. 

Periodicals,  888. 

Prize  Essay,  696. 

Qualifications,  813. 

Rank,  471,  613,  723. 

Salaries,  473,  697,  888. 

Substitutes,  468,  889. 

Title,  470. 

Trial  year,  489. 

Widows,  432. 

Teachers'  Associations,  32,  174,695,  836. 
Teachers'  classification  and  designation. 

Adjuncti,  564. 

Apprentice,  236. 

Assistants,  95,  175,  613.  , 

Associates,  7J3. 

Cantor,  172,  215. 

Catechist,  47. 

Choir-rector,  172. 

Chorister,  215. 

Colleague,  564,  470. 

Custodian,  861. 

Director,  47,  465. 

German  Teachers,  172. 

Head  master,  470. 

Parish  Clerk,  375. 

Parish  School  Teacher,  215.  , 

Practitioners,  274. 

Professor,  47,  471,  552,  564. 

Rector,  564,  470. 


Teachers'  classification  and  designation, 

School-Teachers,  172. 
Uiriversities  of  Germany, 

Oberleherer,  470. 

Ordinarius,  83,  471,  563. 

Preceptor,  713. 

Principal,  713. 

Superior  and  Inferior,  470. 

Under  Teacher,  47,  470. 
Teachers'  Elementary,  how  trained,  in 

Anhalt,  18,  20.  Nassau,  324. 

Austria,  58,  61,  887.         Oldenburg,  331. 

Bnden,  514.  Prussia,  433,  862, 

Bavaria,  173.  Saxony,  557. 

Brunswick,  213.  Saxe-Altenburg,  569. 

Hanover,  223.  Saxe-Coburg,  598. 

Hesse-Cassel,  271.  Saxe-Meiningen,  611. 

Hesse-Darmstadt,  286.      Saxe-Weimar,  630,  818. 

Lippe-Detmold,  305.        Schleswig-Holstein,  641. 

Lippe-Schaumburg,  307.  Schwazburg,  650. 

Mecklenburg,  3 13. 322.      Wurtemberg,  691. 
Teachers'  Secondary,  how  trained,  484,  843. 
Teachers'  Seminaries,  382,  814.  (Sec  Normal  School,) 
Technical  Schools  and  Instruction,  195,  599,  853. 

Frederick  II  regulation,  872. 
Terence,  as  a  Text-book,  542. 
Terms  and  Vacation,  91. 
Text-books. 

Austria,  52,  60,  74,  886.       Hanover,  252. 

Bavaria,  201.  Prussia,  504, 866. 

Theology,  faculties  of,  840. 

Course  of  Studies,  848. 

Students,  in  School  matters,  216,  240,  870. 
Theresa  Maria,  26,  69,  109. 
Theresian  Institutions,  109. 
Thiersch,  Professor,  on  Prussian  Schools,  444. 
Thilo,  Professor,  Author  of  Article,  335,423. 
Thinking  Exercises,  788,  809. 
Thirty  Years'  War,  322,  549. 
Thou,  tn  school  parlance,  238,  293. 
Thun  Count,  37,  79. 
Time  Table. 

Burgher  Schools,  57,  150,  737. 

Gymnasium,  90,  139,  185,  256,  290,  495,  496,  596, 
715. 

Primary  Schools,  52,  128,  328. 

Real  Schools,  99,  257,  296,  502,  644. 
Toga  Monastica,  712. 
Toleration  Act  in  Austria,  30. 
Town  Schools,  372,  575,  755. 
Trade  Schools,  167,  270,  295,  853. 
Training  Schools  for  Teachers,  896. 
Transylvania,  23, 66,  119. 
Trapp,  Professor  of  Pedagogics,  437. 
Traveling  Students,  533. 
Traveling  Teachers,  472,  719,  822. 
Trieste,  Schools,  859. 
Trivial  Schools  in  Austria,  28,  32,  40,  61. 
Trial  year,  94,  489. 
Trotzendorf,  at  Goldberg,  451. 
Tubingen  University,  846. 

Gymnasium,  715.  Real  school,  720. 

Philological  Seminary,  721. 
Tuition  in — Elementary — Gymnasial — Real  School, 

Austria,  55      '  90  104 

Baden,  127  138  150 

Bavaria,          175  183  200 

Brunswick,     209  217 

Hanover,         227  249 

Hesse-Cassel,  268  275  273 

Hesse-D'inst,  282  290  297 

Prussia,  428  473  502 

Snxe-Coburg,  592  596 

Wurtemberg,  729  729  729 

Turnastalten,  364,  483,  500. 

Understanding  of  lessons,  130,  589. 
Upper  Austria,  62,  66,  95. 

University  of,  846. 
Universities  of  Germany,  847 

Foundation,  faculties,"  professors,  students,  846. 


916 


ELEMENTARY  AND  SECONDARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMANY. 


Vacations  in  schools. 

Austria,  52.  Hanover,  229,  259. 

Buden,  128.  Saxony,  558. 

Bavaria,  1(58.  Snxe-Altenberg,  371. 

Brunswick,  269.  Wurtemberg,  686. 

Vechta,  Normal  school,  332. 
Venice,  35,  75. 

Vernacular,  how  taught  in,  101,  131,  177. 
Versification,  Latin  in  1580,  547. 
Veterinary  Schools,  853. 
Village  schools,  378. 

Prussia,  403,  424,  809.         Brunswick,  212. 
Vienna,  Statistics  of  schools,  37,  859. 

Pingram  of  schools,  and  studies,  22. 

Salaries  of  teachers,  50. 

Seminary  for  secondary  teachers,  75,  93. 

Commercial  Academy  and  Real  school,  98,  8.57. 

Physical  Institute,  93. 

University,  846. 
Vine  Culture,  school  for,  851. 
Vitzhnm,  gymnasium,  563. 
Vogel,  Dr.,  "557. 
Vocalization,  769. 
Volksschulen,  554,  798. 
Voluntary  principle  in  education,  703. 
Vor  Pomerania,  371. 
Von  Massow,  354. 
Voss,  visit  to  Pestalozzi,  356. 

Wagner,  Gymnasial  Programmes.  179. 
Wniblinger,  training  school  for  rescue  teaching,  671. 
WALDKCK,  Principality,  651-2. 

Area,  population,  history,  651. 

Public  instruction,  651. 

War,  influence  on  the  virtues,  as  well  as  vices,  442. 
Walther,  system  of  school  management,  21. 
Weber.  Tobias,  323. 
Weidemann,  634. 
Weimar,  Schools  in,  632. 

Sophia  Foundation,  633. 
Weingarten,  Orphan  Home,  675. 
Wiesbaden,  Schools,  859. 
Westphalia,  Province,  454. 
Weissenfels,  Normal  school  at,  371. 
Wimmer,  Dr.  H.  on  Schools  of  Saxony,  554. 

Schools  of  Waldeck,  651. 
Wendler,  bequest  for  free  school,  550. 
Wettin,  House  of,  531. 
Widows  of  teachers,  provision  for. 

Austria,  51,85.  Mecklenburg,  317. 

Baden,  135.  Nassau,  325. 

Bavaria,  175,  193.  Prussia.  410,  431,  474. 

Brunswick,  215.  Saxony,  554. 

Hanover,  232,  261.  Saxe-Altenburg,  569. 

Lippe-Detmold,  305.         Saxe-Coburg,  594,  898. 

Lippe-Shaumberg,  307.   Wurtemberg,  658, 700,  711. 


Wiese,  Dr.  L.,  Prussia  High  school,  446.  501,  844. 

Gymnasial  counsellor,  446,  552. 
William  I.,  606. 
Winter  schools,  862. 
Wismar,  higher  city  school,  316. 
Wittenberg,  University,  535. 
Winrich  von  Kniprode,  in  1351  449. 
Wolf,  Commercial  academy,  98. 
Wolf,  F.  A.,  475,  484. 
Wollner,  438,  799. 

Religious  edict,  of  1788,  439. 
Worship,  Ministry  of,  551. 
Written  examinations,  478. 
Writing  Schools,  208,  735. 
Written  Exercises,  87. 
Writing,  in  schools  of, 

Austria,  58,  103.  Brunswick,  208. 

Baden,  131,  139.  Prussia,  770,  777,  807. 

Bavaria,  169,  185.  Wurtemberg,  770. 

Writing,  ornamental,  777. 
WURTEMBERO,  Kingdom  of,  653.  ,   3 

Public  instruction,  historical,  654. 

1.  Elementary  schools,  654. 
School  code  of  1559,  654. 
Teachers,  salaries,  training,  658,  690. 
Statistics,  677,  744.  ••» 

2.  Secondary  schools,  709. 

Latin  schools,  Cloister  schools,  709,845. 

3.  Special  and  Technical  schools,  730,850. 
Wurtzburg,  university,  846. 

Yard  to  Schoolhouse,  760. 
Year,  school  in, 

Austria,  103. 

Baden,  147. 

Bavaria,  191. 

Prussia,  503.  x 

Saxony,  557. 

Wurtemberg,  686. 
Young  Children,  methods  of  teaching,  768,  778. 

Arithmetic,  781.  Natural  Sciences,  789. 

Common  Things,  789.     Observation,  778. 

Drawing,  779,  784.  Reading,  781. 

Geography,  786.  Religion,  771,  791,  802. 

Language,  778.  Thinking,  788. 

Zedlitz.  351,  437. 

Supreme  School  Board  in  1787,  437. 
Zeller,  on  Pestalozzi 's  method,  657. 
Zerbst,  school  for  Girls,  19. 

Gymnasium,  19. 

Pedagium,  19. 
Zerrener,  369. 

Views  of  Pestalozzi,  370. 

Westphalia  Children's  Friend,  369. 
Zurich,  university,  846. 


SUPERIOR  INSTRUCTION.  5 

SUPERIOR  INSTRUCTION  :  Contributions  to  the  History  of  the  Universi- 
ties of  Germany,  with  an  account  of  the  Systems  and  Institutions  of 
Superior  Instruction  in  other  countries.  912  pages.  $5.50.  Repub- 
lished  from  Barnard's  American  Journal  of  Education,  with  additions. 

CONTENTS. 


I.    GERMAN  STATES. 

PAG*. 

iNTRODUCTrON , 3 

I.  THE  GERMAN  UNIVERSITIES.    From  the  German  of  Karl  von  Raumer 9 

I.  Historical 9 

1.  Introduction.    Universities  of  Salerno,  Bologna,  and  Paris 9 

2.  List  of  German  Universities,  with  date  of  their  foundation 10 

3.  The  German  Universities  in  the  Fourteenth  and  Fifteenth  centuries 11 

A.  Charters,  or  Letters  of  Foundation 11 

B.  The  Pope  and  the  Universities 12 

C.  The  Emperor  and  the  Universities 16 

D.  Organization  of  the  earliest  German  Universities 17 

a.  The  Four  Nations.    Four  Faculties.    Rector.    Chancellor.    Endowments.  18 

b.  The  Four  Faculties 20 

1.  Faculty  of  Arts 20 

2.  Faculty  of  Theology 21 

3.  Faculty  of  Canon  and  Civil  Law.. 24 

4.  Faculty  of  Medicine .{ 26 

c.  Customs  and  Discipline 27 

4.  University  of  Wittenberg  and  its  relations  to  the  earlier  Universities 30 

5.  History  of  the  Customs  of  the  Universities  in  the  Seventeenth  Century 37 

A.  The  Deposition 42 

B.  Pennalism 52 

6.  History  of  the  Universities  in  the  Eighteenth  Century 52 

A.  Nationalism.     National  Societies 52 

B.  Students'  orders 56 

7.  History  of  the  Universities  in  the  Nineteenth  Century. 58 

Introduction  ;  the  author's  academical  experience 59 

A.  Entrance  at  Halle,  1799  ;  a  preliminary  view 59 

B.  Gottingen;  Easter  1801  to  Easter  1803 59 

C.  Halle  ;  Easter  1803  to  Sept.  1805 68 

D.  Breslau;  1810  to  1817 76 

a.  Establishment  of  the  Jena  Burschenschaft,  July  18,  1816.     Wartburg  Festi 

val,  Oct.  18,  1817 80 

b.  Establishment  of  the  general  Burschenschaft,  in  1818 91 

E.  Breslau,  1817  to  1819 92 

a.  Sand 102 

b.  The  consequences  of  Sand's  crime.    Investigations.     Breaking  up  of  the 

societies.     Destruction  of  the  Burschenschaft 124 

F.  Halle,  1819  to  1823 136 

Conclusion 153 

II.  APPENDIX 155 

I.  Bull  of  Pius  II.,  creating  University  of  Ingoldstadt 157 

II.  List  of  Lectures  in  the  Faculty  of  Arts  in  1366 159 

III.  Bursaries 160 

IV.  The"Comment"  of  the  National  Societies 161 

V.  Statutes 165 

A.  Constitution  of  the  General  German  Burschenschaft 165 

B.  The  Jena  Burschenschaft 168 

VI.  The  Wartburg  Letters 183 

VII.  Bahrdt  with  the  iron  forehead ' 186 

VIII.  Substance  of  Tubingen  Statutes  for  organizing  a  students'  committee 187 


(J  THE  GERMAN  UNIVERSITIES. 

ftko*. 

IX.  Extract  from  an  Address  of  Prof.  Heyder,  at  Jena,  in  1607 188 

X.  Synonyms  of  "  Beanug" , .. 191 

XL  Meyfart's  "rfretinua"  or  Student  Life  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 191 

XII.  Grant  of  Privileges  by  Leopold  1.  to  the  University  of  Halle 192 

XIII.  Work*  referred  to 253 

XIV.  The  Universities  in  the  summer  of  1853 198 

HI.  ACADEMICAL  TREATISES 201 

1.  Lecture  system.    Dialogic  instruction ...  201 

2.  Examinations '. ; 206 

3.  Obligatory  lectures.     Optional  attendance.     Lyceums.    Relations  of  the  philo- 

sophical faculty  and  their  lectures,  to  those  of  the  professional  studies. 213 

4.  Personal  relations  of  the  professors  and  students 22t) 

5.  Small  and  large  universities.     Academies 236 

G.  University  instruction  in  elementary  natural  history 241 

7.  Student  songs 245 

Conclusion 049 

INDBX 255 

II.  THE  GERMAN  UNIVERSITIES  COMPARED  WITH  THOSE  OF  FRANCK  AND  ENGLAND. 

By  Prof.  H.  Von  Sybel,  Bonn 259 

French  idea  of  Superior  Instruction.    Renan 260 

Isolated  courses  and  Lectures.     College  of  France 260 

English  idea  of  Superior  Instruction 260 

Continuation  of  Subjects  and  Methods  of  Grammar  Schools 2GO 

German  union  of  original  Research  and  thorough  Instruction 262 

Relations  of  Universities  to  Gymnasia 262 

Defects  of  German  Universities 266 

HI.  UNIVERSITIES  or  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.     By  Prof.  Charles  Savigny,  Berlin 271 — 330 

INTRODUCTION.    Influence  on  the  civilization  of  Europe 273 

1.  UNIVERSITIES  or  ITALY.    Origin  and  Peculiarities 275 

(1.)  Bologna.    Earliest  Statutes.     Rector.    Faculties.    Nations.    Degrees 275 

(2.)  Padua.    (3)  Pisa.     (4.)  Vicenza.      (5.)  Vicelli.    (6.)  Arezzo 275 

(7.)  Ferrara.     (8.)  Rome.    (9.)  Naples.     (10.)  Perugia.     (11.)  Modena,  Pavia,  296 

2.  UNIVERSITIES  or  FRANCE 309 

(1.)  Paris.    Oldest  Documents.    Peculiarities.    Teachers.    Colleges 309 

(2.)  Montpellier.     (3.)  Orleans.     (4.)  Other  French  Universities 31G 

3.  Universities  of  England,  Scotland,  Spain,  Portugal 324 

Remarks  on  the  older  universities 325 

Name.    Relations  to  the  Church  and  State.    Chancellor 327 

Law  Lectures.    Subjects.    Relation  of  Students  to  Teachers 327 

IV.  UNIVERSITIES— PAST  AND  PRESENT,  by  Dr.  DoIIinger,  Munich 331 

Meaning  and  origin  of  the  University 333 

Characteristic  features  of  the  ancient  Schools  of  Italy  and  France 334 

Late  development  of  the  German  High  School 335 

Rapid  Multiplication.    Religious  Agitation.    Thirty  Years' War 337 

New  University  without  territorial  circumspection 343 

Reorganization  of  the  University  of  Vienna 345 

Common  bond  of  all  Faculties  and  Sciences 347 

University  organization  and  Teaching  in  other  European  States 348 

France — Great  Britain— United  States— Italy 349 

Spain— Holland— Scandinavia— Russia 350 

Universities — the  seed-beds  and  workshops  of  German  thought 351 

German  Faculty  of  Historical  Research .* 353 

Quadruple  Task  of  German  High  Schools 355 

Contributions  to  Scientific  and  Literary  Production 357 

Chief  acquisition  of  University  Training  in  the  Historical  Sense 359 

V.  STATISTICS — FACULTIES,  PROFESSORS,  STUDENTS 361 

VI.  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT  or  PARTICULAR  INSTITUTIONS 385 


SUPZI1IOR  INSTRUCTION.  f 

II.    ITALY. 

I.  HISTORICAL  DEVKLOPMENT  OF  SUPERIOR  INSTRUCTION 453 

1.  Higher  Education  in  Ancient  Greece 453 

State  policy— The  Sophists— Public  Life— Attic  Oratory 456 

Schools  of  Athens— Pluto,  Socrates,  Aristotle 462 

Museum  of  Alexandria— its   Rector,  Professors,  Students 4G4 

Rhodes — Antioch — Tarsus 466 

2.  Higher  Education  among  the  Romans 407 

Teachers  of  Rhetoric  and  Grammar.     Study  of  Greek 4G9 

Personal  Influence.     Unconscious  Tuition  of  Eminent  Men.     Etruvia 474 

Athenaeum  of  the  Capital.    University  of  Athens T75 

Professors,  appointment,  salaries  and  assistants 477 

Sophists  of  the  later  Roman  Empire.    Mode  of  Instruction 481 

3.  Effects  of  Christianity  on  Academic  study 486 

Octagon  or  Tetradision  of  Constantine 487 

Theological  Seminaries — Alexandria — Constantinople 488 

Roman  Law  at  Rome  and  Berytus 489 

Rule  of  the  Ostrogoths— German  element 490 

4.  Differences  between  Ancient  and  Modern  Academic  Institutions 492 

Corporate  privileges— Academic  degrees 463 

Faculty  of  Arts,  associated  with  Theology  and  Law 495 

Special  Sciences — Canon  Law — Medicine — Roman  Law 500 

Influence  of  Byzantine  Greeks — Platonic  element — Arabic  culture 505 

Internal  Economy  of  Ancient  and  Modern  Academic  life 506 

Emancipation  of  the  Faculty  of  Arts — Classical  Learning 507 

Notes — Museum  of  Alexandria — Literary  Clubs,  or  Symposia 510 

II.  CHRISTIAN  SCHOOLS — as  distinguished  from  Pagan 513 

St.  Basil  and  St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzus  at  Athens 515 

Cassiodorus  at  Vivaria 517 

St.  Benedict  and  the  Benedictines 519 

Monte  Cassino — Summary  of  the  Rule  of  St.  Benedict 521 

Confirmation  of  Rule — Guarantees  and  Exemptions  of  Pope  Gregory  VII 524 

Monasteries  as  Schools,  and  Repositories  and  Disseminators  of  Learning . .  525 

Cathedra]  Schools— Training  of  Theological  Students 527 

Order  of  St..  Dominic— Society  of  Jesus— Council  of  Trent 529 

III.  REVIVAL  OF  THE  LANGUAGES  AND  LITERATURES  OF  GREECE  AND  ROME 541 

1.  Literary  studies  of  the  Middle  Ages — Intellectual  Life 545 

Trivium,  Qiiadrivium,  Mathematics,  Astronomy,  Natural  History 548 

Roger  Bacon — Lay  of  Nibelungen 549 

2.  Dante  and  Boccaccio— Use  of  the  Vernacular 550 

Petrarch — precursor  of  Philological  Poetry — aversion  to  scholasticism 556 

3.  Growth  of  Classical  Learning — Florence 505 

John  of  Ravenna  and  Chrysoloras — Guarino  and  Vittorino  di  Feltre 567 

Cosmo  di  Medici — Lorenzo — Pope  Nicholas  V. — First  printed  books 570 

Platonic  Academy  at  Florence — Marsilius,  Ficinus,  George  of  Trebezond »  572 

Francis  Philelphus — Poggius — Laurentius  Valla — Bessarion — Gaza 573 

Lorenzo  di  Medici — Landinus — Politianus — Pious,  Count  of  Mirandola 577 

Leo  X.— the  dark  side  of  his  Pontificate — Machiavelli  and  Ariosto 586 

Retrospect— Influence  on  Germany,  France,  and  England 592 

IV.  SUPERIOR  INSTRUCTION  IN  THE  KINGDOM  OF  ITALY 595 

I.  HISTORICAL  NOTICE  OF  EXISTING  UNIVERSITIES 597 

1.  State  Universities 598 

Bologna,  Cagliari,  Catania,  Genoa,   Mnceralta,   Messina,   Modena,   Naples,  603 
Palermo,  Puma,  Padua,  Pavia,  Pisa,  Sassari,  Siena,  Turin 609 

2.  Non-government  Universities 616 

Camerino,  Ferrara,  Perugia,  Urbino 616 

3.  Superior  Institutes 619 

4.  Higher  Learning  in  the  city  of  Rome 692 

II.  ADMINISTRATION,  FACULTIES,  PROFESSORS,  STUDENTS,  AND  STATISTICS 621 

III.  TEACHING  ORDERS  OF  THK  CATHOLIC  CHURCH...  641 


8 


SUPERIOR  INSTRUCTION 


III.    THE  NETHERLANDS. 

I.  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT 673 

1.  Schools  and  Institutions  of  the  Church 677 

2.  Instruction  of  Eminent  Teachers 685 

3.  Universities 705 

II.  SUPERIOR  AND  PROFESSIONAL  INSTRUCTION 713 

I.  HOLLAND. — II.  BELGIUM 713 

IV.    FRANCE. 

T  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT 723 

1.  Schools  und  Institutions  of  the  Church 723 

2.  Universities  and  Colleges 729 

3.  Imperial  University.     737 

II.  SUPERIOR  AND  PROFESSIONAL  INSTRUCTION 745 

1.  Faculties— (1.)  Literature  and  Science.     (2.)  Theology.     (3.)  Law.     (4.)  Medicine.  745 

2.  Institutions  outside  of  the  Faculties.     (1  )  College  of  France.     (2.)  Oriental  Lan- 

guages, &c 747 

3.  Practical  School  of  Higher  Studies 749 

III.  STATISTICS  OF  INSTITUTIONS  AND  EXPENDITURES 757 

Guizot's  Ministry  of  Superior  Instruction 707 

V.   SWITZERLAND. 

I.  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT : 803 

II.  CANTONAL  INSTITUTIONS  OF  SUPERIOR  INSTRUCTION 805 

VI.   DENMARK,  NORWAY,  SWEDEN. 
I.  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT 811 

II.  INSTITUTIONS  OF  SUPERIOR  INSTRUCTION 812 

I.  DENMARK.— It.  NORWAY.— III.  SWEDEN 812 

VII.    RUSSIA. 

I.  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT 819 

II.  INSTITUTIONS  AND  STATISTICS  OF  SUPERIOR  INSTRUCTION 825 

VIII     GREECE  AND  TURKEY. 

I.  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT 835 

II.  INSTITUTIONS  AND  STATISTICS  OF  SUPERIOR  INSTRUCTION 835 

I.  GREECE.— II.  TURKEY 837 

IX.    SPAIN  AND  PORTUGAL. 
I.  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT 843 

1.  Institutions  of  the  Church 843 

2.  Arabic  Culture 845 

3.  Universities 849 

II.  INSTITUTIONS  AND  STATISTICS  OF  SUPERIOR  INSTRUCTION 853 

I.  SPAIN. — II.  PORTUGAL 859 

X.    GREAT  BRITAIN. 

I.  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT 867 

II.  INSTITUTIONS  OF  SUPERIOR  INSTRUCTION 871 

I.  ENGLAND— II.  SCOTLAND.— III.  IRELAND 871 

XI.    AMERICAN  STATES. 

I.  HISTORICAL  NOTICE 883 

II.  INSTITUTIONS  OF  SUPERIOR  AND  PROFKSSIONAL  INSTRUCTION 885 

I.  UNITED  STATES. — II.  BRITISH  DOMINION. — III.  OTHER  AMERICAN  STATES....  885 


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